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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29013606">Baby's a Red</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodredberry/pseuds/bloodredberry'>bloodredberry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Spies &amp; Secret Agents, Cold War, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:55:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,963</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29013606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodredberry/pseuds/bloodredberry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam said "spies on opposing sides" on Talks and, naturally, I immediately entered a coma and emerged with a wip. Set in the cold war era, this story follows two people racing to uncover secret knowledge of what they believe may be the greatest source of power ever known to man. They both think they would sacrifice anything to get their hands on it. But as a series of unexpected events unfold, an unlikely alliance is formed. Will the forces bringing them together be stronger than the ones that seek to tear them apart?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Preface</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caleb was being watched.</p><p>Not that he was surprised, really. After all, when you’re in the business, it’s only expected. Honestly, he might have been more worried if he <em>didn’t</em> see anyone watching him, because that would mean they could still hide from his trained eyes.</p><p>It’s just that he didn’t expect it to be so easy. </p><p>The agent he had spotted watching him was seated across the cafe, with a demeanor lifted straight from a cheap spy movie. He held a newspaper upright, studiously covering his face with it. And he hadn’t turned a page in over ten minutes.</p><p>Caleb tapped his pen against the table as his mind was occupied elsewhere, wondering what idiot had trained this guy and sent him out into the world. It was like he had never heard the phrase “act natural.” But if he was going to be tailed by comically untrained agents, he might as well have some fun with them before they were inevitably reassigned.</p><p>He held his pen over the table, conspicuously pausing his taps. The man shifted slightly, perhaps to ascertain whether he was leaving. Satisfied that he was paying attention, Caleb began to tap his pen rhythmically on the table, spelling out short messages in Morse code.</p><p>_ _ . . .   . . . _ _  <em>Hello.</em></p><p>The man’s ear twitched, turning deftly toward the sound of tapping. Well, that confirmed his suspicions. The stranger was definitely listening. And since no one around them seemed to be paying attention, he doubted anyone would pay mind if he chanced a longer message.</p><p> </p><p>_ _ .   _ _ _   _ _ _   _ . .       . . .   _   _ _ _   . _.   _ . _ _   . . _ _ . .   <em>Good story?</em></p><p>No response except a slightly tightened grip on the neglected newspaper. Caleb noted the way the man’s pointed ears bowed stiffly downwards when he was trying to pretend not to listen. With a wry grin, he stood to his feet and strode toward the exit, making sure to ‘accidentally’ brush the stranger’s jacket to the ground as he passed so that he could make a show of pausing at the table. “Oh! Pardon me, sir. How clumsy of me. Let me get that.” As he bent down, he added in a quiet voice, “Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Caleb, although I’m sure you already knew that. And what may I call you, since I assume we’ll be seeing more of each other?”</p><p>The man pressed his lips together in an annoyed line. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”</p><p>Caleb gave him an oversaturated smile. “Of course. And here’s your jacket- sorry again.”</p><p>When he was safely out of view, he peeked back around the corner in time to see the stranger notice the small slip of paper he had surreptitiously tucked into the jacket pocket. The man read it, seemed confused for a moment, then hurriedly folded it and shoved it back inside.</p><p>Perfect. Now he would just have to explain to the others who might be calling.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello lovely critters and welcome to my first ever extended fic! I hope you've enjoyed this little preview of things to come. I would love to know what you think, and thank you for joining me on this here journey! Good luck, shadowgast nation, and as always, Light be with you~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The car door slammed shut behind Caleb as he launched himself into the side seat and fumbled with the seatbelt in a panic. “Go! Go!” </p>
<p>Veth looked over at him, her face a mirror of his panic, but with an extra helping of her signature manic excitement. “Did you get it?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I got it, now GO!” He had barely gotten out the ‘yes’ before she was yanking the transmission into drive and peeling out of the alley behind the warehouse. Caleb’s eyes were glued to the rearview mirror, searching for anyone behind them. </p>
<p>“Did anybody follow you out? Are we gonna have a tail?”</p>
<p>“Nein, no one, but hurry. There was someone chasing me at first. I lost them before I got to the car.”</p>
<p>Tires squealed and Caleb’s nose filled with the unsettling tinge of burning rubber as Veth maneuvered the car expertly- if very illegally- through the streets. Fortunately, people in this part of town knew better than to get in the way of a speeding black sedan. For a moment, they allowed themselves a breath of relief. They weren’t followed and they could loop straight back to headquarters in victory. But before they could exhale, another sedan turned into view just behind them. The sound of aggressive acceleration flooded their ears as Veth shot him a panicked glance. “Maybe they’re just tailgating?”</p>
<p>Through the glare of headlights, Caleb could just barely catch a flash of bright white hair. </p>
<p>He ducked down immediately, chin to his chest, hiding from the other driver’s line of sight. “Sheisse - That’s him. He was at the warehouse.”</p>
<p>Veth’s eyes narrowed as she revved the engine, instincts working fast. “Sit up straight then, kiddo, looks like we’re off to the races!”</p>
<p>Instinctively, Caleb reached for her arm, as if he could dissuade her from what she was planning next, but his arm was immediately knocked backwards by the g-forces that hit the car like a brick wall as she punched the gas straight through a red light. Both of their yelling voices echoed off the windows. His was a terrified yelp, and hers a whoop of absolute exhilaration.</p>
<p>“Slow down slow down slow DOWN red the light is red stop STOP, PLEASE-“ </p>
<p>His breath was shoved back into his lungs as Veth slammed the brakes and yanked the wheel to the right, throwing the car wildly onto a side street, narrowly avoiding an intersection, and then another, completely disregarding sidewalks and hopping over curbs as they made their getaway. He wanted to protest but his entire consciousness was now occupied with gripping desperately to his seat. Veth let out a triumphant whoop. “Ha ha! Just try and follow us now! Not today, baby- Not today!”</p>
<p>__________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After what seemed like hours of Veth weaving through the city to satisfy her own paranoia, she finally gave up the chase and declared that she’d thrown off any followers. At last, the car began to slow as they made their way towards familiar streets. No sooner had the car rolled to a halt than Caleb tumbled out of the passenger seat, eager to be out of the vehicle, and promptly plopped down face-first onto the grass outside the house where they had come to rest. </p>
<p>Veth nudged him with her toe, jokingly testing for signs of life. “C’mon, everyone is waiting inside.” </p>
<p>“Just take the plans and leave me here to die, thanks,” he wheezed.</p>
<p>Veth just nudged him harder, rolling him onto his back and looking down over him. “Hey! Cut the dramatics. You can’t complain about my driving when I’m the one that got us out of there!”</p>
<p>He briefly considered making a move to swipe her legs out from under her, as payback for what felt like an eternity of dragging him white-knuckled through every alleyway in the city. But before he could, a switch was flipped inside the house, and the two of them were caught in a square of orange light. Caduceus’ voice came from the window. “You made it! Good, good, that’s good. Come on inside, everyone’s gathered up. You both all right?”</p>
<p>Suddenly, Caleb’s stomach churned with a familiar toxin of guilt and fear. He jerked his head toward Veth. Was she all right? He hadn’t even asked, she could have been hurt, what if-</p>
<p>“We’re all good!” She piped up. “No injuries, and! We have returned victorious!”</p>
<p>Almost as soon as it had arrived, the storm passed from the pit of his stomach and he was flooded with relief. She was all right. They were all right. </p>
<p>Caduceus motioned them inside. “That’s great. I knew you would. Why don’t you get on inside, then, and we’ll take a look.”</p>
<p>Inside, the rest of the nein were strewn across various surfaces, waiting for their return. Jester was bouncing almost imperceptibly on her toes, hovering excitedly by the door. “Get inside get inside! I am so glad you are back you have to tell us everything that happened!” </p>
<p>Fjord rolled over on the couch, clutching an empty coffee mug. “No you don’t. You don’t have to tell us everything. It’s past midnight. Molly- where is he- Molly, please tell me there’s more coffee.” </p>
<p>Right on cue, Molly waltzed out of the kitchen he shared with Yasha and Beau, carrying two mugs of coffee. Fjord sat up, eyes brightening, then immediately slumped back over as the mugs were handed to Veth and Caleb. Veth quickly snatched the mug out of Caleb’s hands, half-tossing it toward Fjord, who clutched the steaming coffee like a lifeline. She wagged a finger. “Your heart rate is fast enough already, Cay. I can practically see it through your temples.” </p>
<p>Caleb looked on jealously as she downed hers in two gulps and chucked the cup aside before spinning a chair around and propping herself up on it, one knee on the seat, and leaning over the backrest. She motioned to the table. “So, are we gonna check these out or what?”</p>
<p>Caleb plucked the envelope from the pocket inside his jacket where it was neatly tucked away, and spread its contents out over the dining room table. Everyone leaned in over at his shoulder, peering at the papers, trying to get a look at the information they had been collectively working for over the past few weeks. There, in the dim light of the halogen lamp, it would finally all come together: <em>they had the plans for the dodecahedron.</em></p>
<p>Breaking the stillness, Beau reached across the table to arrange all of them out flat. “Are you sure this is all of it? This is all there was? It seems so…” Her voice trailed off as she placed the last sheet face up. </p>
<p>“It’s certainly all that was there,” Caleb responded, anxiety edging into his voice. “The box was completely empty except for this.”</p>
<p>Yasha’s voice was as measured and reasonable as ever. “That’s okay. We just need to put the pieces together the right way. It’s probably encoded somehow.” </p>
<p>A quick skim confirmed her assertions, and Beau groaned as she plopped into the seat beside Veth. “Man, I fuckin’ hate codes. Ugh. Hand me the first page, let’s get this over with.”</p>
<p>_____________________</p>
<p>The clock ticked agonizingly from just-past-midnight to just-past-one as everyone pitched in to make sense of the stolen plans. Caleb found himself resisting the urge to undo all their work by giving up and ripping the paper to shreds. It just didn’t make any sense. He had tried every cipher he could think of. Every language he or anybody else there knew, and every code he knew in every language, and twice. He had tried frequency analysis with what felt like every known alphabet. There just wasn’t anything there but strings of meaningless characters. Most of them didn’t even look like real letters. All this for <em>scribbles.</em> </p>
<p>He shook his head and looked around him to where the others were in various states of unfocused frustration. Beau was still squinting at the first sheet of paper she had picked up, turning it this way and that. He tossed his sheet of paper over to her, giving up on trying to make sense of any of it. “Beauregard, if it doesn’t make sense right side up, I don’t think turning it upside down is going to help matters.” </p>
<p>She shoved his sheet of paper back over to him with a <em>smack.</em> “You don’t know that! Your way didn’t work any better, did it?” </p>
<p>Jester giggled sleepily from the corner. “I bet, I bet you’re right. We just have to make them feel comfortable, you know? It always works very well with people. Then they’ll tell you all their secrets!” </p>
<p>Yasha squinted, turning her paper to the same angle as Beau’s. Her eyes lit up. “She might have something, actually. Look, Caleb, you see this symbol here? Do you recognize it? Beau, bring over your sheet.”</p>
<p>The rest of them watched as Yasha began to lay out the sheets of paper, overlapping one another at odd angles, and folding them along seemingly random lines. Slowly, though, Caleb started to understand what she was doing. At the places where the folded edges met, a new set of characters was taking shape. He pointed to one such seam. “This looks familiar. Isn’t this some kind of Cyrillic? A derivative, perhaps?” </p>
<p>Yasha nodded, folding and unfolding a page she held in her hand, trying to fit it in with the rest like a puzzle piece. “Right. It’s modified, though. Sort of a... dialect, I think, for secretive writings. Mostly used by religious sorts, from what I saw? But maybe the intelligence community picked it up.” She looked down at the papers, her tongue just barely sticking out of her lips in concentration. “I realized that some of the scribbles looked like half-letters, so I’m trying to fit them together. Maybe we’ll be able to read along the seams, if I can- yes. There.” </p>
<p>Along the creases, a few lines had suddenly been transformed into readable text. Beau looked up with wide eyes. “Yash, you’re a <em>genius.”</em> </p>
<p>She shrugged. “I’m just the only one who’s seen the dialect before, I think.” </p>
<p>The others started to stir, sensing the change in conversation. Veth rolled over at the foot of the couch. “D’jou get it yet? Whassit say?”</p>
<p>Caleb looked down at the papers, still feeling a little helpless. Not being the one to direct the research still unsettled him. It’s not that he didn’t trust his friends to find what they needed; he knew they would. It’s just that he was never sure what else he really had to offer, and this jumble of nonsense looked up at him like a glaring reminder of that. “I’m not sure. I can’t read this dialect. What did you say it was called?”</p>
<p>“Um. Xorhassian, actually.”</p>
<p>Molly’s head snapped towards Yasha. “You mean like us?” </p>
<p>She tilted her hand back and forth in a gesture of <em> sort of. </em> “Maybe? I don’t really think it’s connected. Not from what I know, anyway.” </p>
<p>Molly scooted over to look at the papers. “It could be a start, though.” He sighed. “I wish we could just hunt down whatever clown wrote this and ask him.” </p>
<p>Caduceus perked up at that. “Yes, I think that’s a great idea. Let’s do that.” </p>
<p>Beau looked at him sideways. “If he hadn’t definitely been dead for a few hundred odd years, I’d say yeah.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Well, how about the young man at the coffee shop, then? He seems to be connected to all this somehow. Maybe he can tell you something.”</p>
<p>“The- Cad, you mean the Russian guy?”</p>
<p>“Right.”</p>
<p>“I, uh, don’t really think that’s encouraged, Cad.”</p>
<p>Caduceus shrugged. “I think it could be an enlightening conversation.”</p>
<p>Veth shook her head, sitting up more fully. “I don’t. He might be dangerous. I mean, he <i>did</i> somehow manage to figure out our whole operation earlier tonight, and he practically ran me off the road, too.”</p>
<p>Fjord looked startled. “Pardon, but um, why are we just hearing about this now? Why didn’t you didn’t tell us he was there? Or that someone tried to <em>run you off the road?</em> Were you being chased?”</p>
<p>“Could. um. Fjord, could you not tell that from the late arrival with screeching tires, or…”</p>
<p>“In my defense, you <em>always</em> drive like that.”</p>
<p>She crossed her arms. “My point stands. I don’t think it’s a great idea to seek him out for conversation, not after encountering him in the field. Sorry to break up your breakfast date, Cay.” </p>
<p>“We did not have a date.”</p>
<p>“I, uh, absolutely didn’t think you did, although you look more defensive than usual so I might have to re-assess that now, if you want to tell us anything?”</p>
<p>“Mm. No, I do not think I do. But like you said, now that we have seen him ‘in the field,’ I do not imagine I’ll be seeing him for breakfast again. Still, perhaps the rest of you should keep an eye out, just to be safe. Not just for him. You must all please let me know if you see anyone looking suspicious or out of place, especially if they look to be Russian, though that is a given.” </p>
<p>Molly shifted, looking uncomfortable. He crossed his arms. “Right. Because no harm has ever come from singling out someone who looks different, or gods forbid, <em>foreign.”</em> </p>
<p>Caleb paled as he mentally played back what he had said. “Right- right. You’re right. I’m sorry, Mollymauk, I did not mean it like that.”</p>
<p>He flicked his tail. “Great. Then don’t say it like that.” </p>
<p>Beau picked up after the short awkward silence. “Well, looks or no looks, if Veth thinks the guy could be a threat, we should still look out for him. Caleb, do you think you could, I dunno, give us some kind of description?”</p>
<p>“He is… He has white hair, like Yasha’s color. I suppose he is handsome? I am sorry, I am not very good with physical descriptions.” </p>
<p>Jester piped up. “That’s okay. Maybe for a while we should make sure someone is with you, in case you see him again?”</p>
<p>“That sounds like a good plan for now.”</p>
<p>She clapped her hands together. “Wonderful! That just means you will need to buy me pastries at your favorite cafe for the next week or so.”</p>
<p>“You know you never need an excuse to join me, Jester.”</p>
<p>“Perfect. It’s decided then! I will see you tomorrow at eight, and you will buy me a muffin and introduce me to your handsome stranger. I can’t <em>wait!”</em></p>
<p>Veth laughed quietly and elbowed Caleb’s side, stage-whispering. “Great job on the undercover work. I hope you didn’t want to be subtle."</p>
<p>He gave a small sigh for her benefit, smiling despite himself. “Oh, gods. What did I just get myself into?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Just before eight o’clock rolled around the next morning, Essek Thelyss found himself perched at his usual spot at the coffee bar, feeling much more anxious than usual. He tried to focus on reading the paper. It might be nice to direct his mind towards something normal and mundane for once, but it felt so out of place.</p>
<p><em>What am I even doing here?</em> his mind needled at him. <em>Out in broad daylight like this. After revealing myself  like that. I’m working too quickly. He can have no doubt about my work now. If I had any sense I would be at home re-grouping and making a new plan.</em></p>
<p>He glanced again at a table a few yards to his left. Still empty. Hm. Maybe the other man actually had some sense in him, and had decided to take a different route at the very least. Avoid the person tailing him, like any reasonable person would. Probably he was reporting to someone even now, and word would get around, and any minute a group of suit-clad men would politely invite Essek to step outside with them, and by the end of the day he would be on a train out of the country. And that’s if he was <em>lucky.</em></p>
<p>But who needs luck when you could be glued to your seat in an American coffee shop, wishing the table a few yards to your left wasn’t empty, even though you’re definitely, definitely better off if it is? </p>
<p>Really, things could have gone much worse last night, despite how fast it had all gone. He had learned quite a bit about how his subject worked: how he acted under pressure, who helped him, and how. Essek had thought it would be a while before meeting on the job, as it were, but Caleb and his friends were observant. They would pick up on his line of work quickly even without any confrontation. He only regretted that things were not unfolding in exactly the way he had hoped. “Introducing” himself had been a tenuous calculation. He needed to make his presence known, but still keep his identity hidden. Hopefully, after they caught sight of him a few times, noticed him watching but never really posing a threat, they would come to see him as a nuisance more than anything. A background character. Watched for, but never feared. Indifference, in this business, is worth far more than trust.</p>
<p>Essek tapped his toe a few times against the coffee bar, bemused at his own thoughts. He couldn’t believe himself these days. If you had told him a few months ago that his idea of danger would be going to a coffee shop where somebody might recognize you, he would have laughed in your face. But maybe he just couldn’t trust his own risk evaluation. If his subject was able to discover more about his identity, he <em>would</em> be in significant danger. And he had seen enough to know that Caleb could certainly be dangerous himself, if he needed to be. But for some reason, he couldn’t just do the easy thing and stay away for a while, or find a new route. Instead, here he was, glancing for the fiftieth time this hour between his newspaper and Caleb’s usual table. </p>
<p>Then again, maybe acting like business as usual was the right course of action. This <em>was</em> technically his job, after all. And giving it up was not an option.</p>
<p>In his distraction, he almost didn’t notice a voice trying to get his attention. “Sir? Um.. sir? Did you…”</p>
<p>Essek shook his head slightly, looking up. “Sorry?”</p>
<p>An apron-clad young man held a cup out to him from behind a whistling coffee machine. “Did you want, um, your coffee now?” </p>
<p>Coffee. Normal people go to coffee shops for coffee.</p>
<p> “...Right. Yes. Sorry. Pardon my distraction.” </p>
<p>The barista shrugged. “It’s fine. Somethin’ on your mind, mister?”</p>
<p><em>Why is this person trying to pry into my personal matters? Does he suspect something? You’re not responding. Say something before you draw more suspicion than you already have.</em> “Oh. Just…” He motioned to his open newspaper, hoping a headline would do the talking for him. “Just looks like a long day ahead.” </p>
<p>The barista raised an eyebrow as he looked to the page Essek had indicated. “In the want ads? Oh- right- you must be looking for a job. Sorry, I didn’t realize. I’ll, um, I’ll leave you to it.”</p>
<p>Great.</p>
<p>Having miraculously managed to extract himself from that awkward exchange, he glanced once more back at Caleb’s table- and was startled to realize that it was now occupied. He frowned. It was <em>not</em> occupied by anyone he recognized.  </p>
<p>Instead, a pretty young tiefling woman with deep blue skin sat cross-legged on the booth seat, tail swishing contentedly as she sipped on a steaming mug of something that looked sweet. Before her on the table sat an open notebook, pages covered in brightly colored shapes and symbols. To his deep misfortune, she noticed him looking at her table. She smiled brightly up at him as she made a few strokes with a glittery pen.</p>
<p>He quickly retreated back to the newspaper. Maybe he could make her forget his presence as long as he didn’t make eye contact. <em>Real smooth. Who is she, anyway?</em>  Essek turned his attention from ignoring the woman so he could focus instead on pointedly ignoring a feeling of disappointment. It’s not like the table was<em> actually </em> Caleb’s. Or like he would even need it anymore, for that matter.</p>
<p>He glanced at his watch. Almost 8:02. Strange. Caleb always walked in the door for his morning coffee at exactly 8. It wasn’t like him to change his schedule. He must really not be coming today. </p>
<p>The espresso machine hissed loudly, and he allowed himself the tiniest<em> hff </em>of disappointment as he mentally gave the diner up for a lost cause. It seemed that it wouldn’t do for daily surveillance anymore. If Caleb was switching up his routine, that meant more work for him. And more unpredictability, personal feelings notwithstanding. So, okay, if he did feel a bit disappointed to see the familiar table occupied by an unfamiliar person, it was only fair.  </p>
<p>Essek didn’t bother to look up from the paper when the door jingled softly at 8:03. Instead, he sipped distractedly at the mug he held in his hand. The coffee here was passable. Not nearly as good for a morning drink as a cup of strong black tea from a samovar, but at least it was hot. Scalding, actually, because all of a sudden he found himself choking down a gulp of it, because <em>Caleb’s voice</em> was coming from directly behind him. When had he come in? </p>
<p>Essek hid a small cough, trying not to show any signs of surprise, and kept his eyes trained straight forward. Because he could have sworn that he just heard Caleb bid him a  <em>Good Morning,</em> in a voice almost too low and quiet to hear. Luckily for him, another voice answered before he could do anything stupid, like turn around.</p>
<p> “Good morning, Caleeeeb! I’m so glad you’re here! Did you get some sleep last night?” </p>
<p>“Good morning to you as well, Jester, Bitte. I, um, I don’t think a lack of sleep will kill me today if it hasn’t managed to yet, anyway. But,” he raised his mug towards her. “At least the coffee helps.” </p>
<p>Essek heard two soft  <em>clinks</em> against the table, and the woman spoke again. “Oh my gosh Caleb! You didn’t actually have to get me a pastry but oh my gosh these muffins look so good! Look they have the sugar on top and everything!” </p>
<p>She sounded nice. And... a little strange, too; she spoke with an accent he couldn’t quite place. Somewhere in Eastern Europe, maybe? She wasn’t Russian, that much was apparent, but something about the lilt in her voice sounded just Slavic enough that Essek wondered for a moment if he might have stumbled into another friend from beyond the iron curtain. That bit of kinship  <em>almost</em> made up for her intrusion into their coffee hour.</p>
<p>Essek bit his tongue in annoyance at himself. No, not  <em>their</em> coffee hour. Their routine, maybe, but he certainly had no reason to feel jealous about it. It’s just that he liked routine, and he didn’t like complications, and Caleb suddenly having a breakfast date definitely qualified as a complication. Not to mention a gaping oversight on his part. If he had actually managed to miss the fact that Caleb had a girlfriend all this time, he needed some serious work on his observational skills. They sounded familiar with one another, too; they conversed easily, and Caleb seemed comfortable in a way Essek thought he had never actually heard before. And that absolutely, positively did not make him jealous at all. And it wasn’t distracting, and it didn’t almost make him fail to listen to what they were actually talking <em>about.</em> </p>
<p>Which, he realized belatedly, seemed to be him.</p>
<p>This was the worst morning.</p>
<p>The woman was leaning close to Caleb, half-whispering in a way that did very little to actually quiet her voice. “That’s him, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“Jester, please-”</p>
<p>“Oh, come on! I’m not the one who decided to introduce myself a week ago! Why do we still have to act like everything’s some big secret?”</p>
<p>“Because casual fraternization is not how I want to start my mornings-”</p>
<p>“Is too. Otherwise you would go somewhere else for breakfast, and you know it.”</p>
<p>“-and I <em>certainly</em> don’t want to cause a scene about it. Please.”</p>
<p>“Well. This whole spy thing is silly anyway.”</p>
<p>“If we could avoid bringing up ‘the spy thing,’ also, thank you.”</p>
<p>“Hmmph.” </p>
<p>Essek didn’t think he had ever in his life heard someone angrily chew a <em> muffin</em>  before, but somehow, she managed. Momentarily, he considered folding up his paper and bolting. The pair was obviously watching him, and he was pretty sure that becoming his subject’s subject could be classified as a complete mission failure. But he suppressed the urge to leave. If he was here, he might as well be here, and at least listen to the rest of their conversation.</p>
<p>The woman’s skirts swished as she shifted in her seat and pushed her plate away from her, and from the corner of his eye, he could see that her expression seemed to have taken on a mischievous bent. “Caleb, you were right about hiiiiiiim,” she cooed quietly.</p>
<p>“…I’m sorry?”</p>
<p>“You’re right, like you said, he’s  <em>cute!”</em> </p>
<p>“I said no such thing.”</p>
<p>“You did!”</p>
<p>“I would obviously not do that. Cute is a word reserved exclusively for Frumpkin. I take this very seriously, as you know.”</p>
<p>“Fine. What did you call him, then? If you would remind me?”</p>
<p>Caleb groaned.</p>
<p>“I remember!” She snapped her fingers as if a lightbulb had just blinked on over her head. “It was <em>handsome.</em>  You said we should look out for a man who had bright white hair and is <em>handsome.”</em> </p>
<p>“…I regret buying you that muffin.”</p>
<p>“You’re no fun today.”</p>
<p>“You certainly seem to be having fun anyway. Look, maybe this was a bad idea. We should go.”</p>
<p>She tugged on his sleeve. “No, it’s okay, finish your coffee.” She made a motion that mimicked pulling a zipper across her lips. “Eyes open, lips closed. I promise.”</p>
<p>“No, Jester, it’s okay. I don’t mean that you should be quiet. I just,” he was silent for a moment, running a hand through his hair. He looked nervous for a brief second. “I just think I may have made a mistake by acting flippantly before. And I shouldn’t have brought you into any danger I may have created.”</p>
<p>She reached out to place a comforting hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, Caleb. You’re not in any danger. Not when you have us for friends.”</p>
<p>He gave her a small smile. “Ja, you certainly handle yourselves very well. And thank you.”</p>
<p>The two were silent for a moment as they drained the last few sips from their coffee cups. “I really should be getting to the office, though. Did you get everything you need?”</p>
<p>She nodded enthusiastically and shut her notebook. “I think I did. It’s all in here.”</p>
<p>“Very good. Well, thank you for meeting me today, Jester. I would be happy for you to join me again.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to work?”</p>
<p>“I’ll be all right, but if you want to take a walk, you know my arm is yours.”</p>
<p>In answer, she linked her hand through the crook of his elbow, and let him help her up from the booth, although it didn’t look like she needed any help. Caleb laid out a few coins on the table, and just before the two of them disappeared out the open door, Jester turned around and gave a goodbye wave to Essek, sitting bewildered in his seat.</p>
<p>For a moment, it was all he could do not to stare after them. The conversation had been something of a whirlwind, compared to the usual silent stares, and he found a rush of unexpected questions swirling about in his mind. </p>
<p>Had Caleb actually been telling his friends about him? Who else knew about his presence, and what did they know about him?  </p>
<p>… And, more importantly, did Caleb really just call him <em>handsome?</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>...okay, so I miiiight have veered a bit away from spies and into coffeeshop territory. What can I say? I love fluff. But fear not: much may yet be revealed &gt;:)</p>
<p>Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed so far! I have several more chapters written and am aiming to update on Tuesdays, weekly or at least bi-weekly. Hope to see you then~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a quick content warning before we begin: in this au, Caleb is to some extent still working for Ikithon, and this chapter describes that. If you find Icky's personal brand of icky particularly triggering, there will be a chapter summary in the end notes. He doesn't feature heavily in most of the fic, but whenever he makes an appearance I'll be including cws and summaries.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>.....</p>
<p>Absentmindedly, Caleb flicked a small blueberry-flavored crumb from his collar as he quietly slipped through the door to his office building. He caught himself humming a few small notes as he walked down the fluorescent-lit hallways and had to shake his head at himself. Since when was he a person who <em>hums?</em> But truthfully, even if Jester denied that he had the ability to be in a “good mood,” she always managed to put him in one. He bit back a smile as he replayed the morning in his head, remembering Jester’s patented mischievous smile, and laughed silently at the way his new shadow had almost choked on his coffee when he snuck him a good morning. </p>
<p>His smile widened a little at the memory, and he quickly pulled the corners of his mouth back down into a familiar frown out of habit. But as he did, he found himself second-guessing the reaction. For some strange reason, his friends kept telling him it was okay to have a moment of joy. And he reminded himself that the only reason those moments were not as rare as they used to be was because he had listened to their advice before. He still felt a little guilty, but he let the smile open itself up across his face, just the smallest bit. After all, no one was around to see it-</p>
<p>“Widowgast. Glad to see you’re… enjoying your morning.”</p>
<p>Damn it. <em>That’s</em> why he always kept his face a mask. Or more accurately, <em>he</em> was why. Instinctively, Caleb flinched away from the open office door, the same one he slunk past silently every morning, praying it would be closed. Of course, today would hold no such luck. </p>
<p>“Yes, sir. Good morning to you as well.”</p>
<p>“Why don’t you step inside the office for a moment? I have a few things I would like to go over with you today.” </p>
<p>Even in such a harmless statement, his voice dripped with false sincerity. Caleb’s mind whirred as he set his face into a practiced neutral mask and let himself into the spacious office room, all thoughts of the morning immediately pushed aside. Trent Ikithon was the most perceptive and the most cruel man he had ever met, but he was determined not to let himself be manipulated. Not anymore. Before Caleb sat down in the chair across from the ancient-looking desk, he had already walled up his mind, receding into the corners of it and taking up a defensible position, sharpening the points of every mental faculty, resolved not to let anyone in. </p>
<p>His throat constricted just looking at the face across from his. He resented the way it was exactly as unreadable as his own. But after all, that’s where he had learned it. </p>
<p>Ikithon’s voice cut through his mental preparations with a snap. “I trust your most recent assignment has met with success?”</p>
<p>“Yes, mostly, I would say so. We completed retrieval. We do not know everything yet, but I believe we can begin to ask the right questions now. What would you like to know?”</p>
<p>Ikithon shook his head. “Oh, no need to worry about that, I’m sure you will be very detailed in your scheduled briefing.” </p>
<p>Internally, Caleb frowned. If this wasn’t about the dodecahedron, then what?</p>
<p>“Actually, I wanted to ask you about your new friend.”</p>
<p>“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”</p>
<p>“Your new friend! You know, the man you have coffee with every morning? You frequently take walks together as well, and if I’m not mistaken, he even… <em>assisted</em> you with the retrieval mission. It’s always good to see you making new friends, Bren. I was hoping to hear more about him from you.” He paused briefly to allow the backhanded accusation to take root. “Of course, I’m sure the only reason you haven’t said anything is because you have been so busy. But, now that we have a moment?”</p>
<p>He raised his eyebrows and gave a gesture of <em>you have the floor.</em> As he did, Caleb’s skin crawled. Truth be told he knew very little about his shadow, except that he should absolutely distrust the man. But that didn’t change the fact that he would trust <em>anyone</em> above Ikithon. Suddenly, he found himself wanting to defend the man like a close ally. </p>
<p>Well. His mentor was not the only one who could imply fault. “Ah. Of course,” Caleb responded evenly. “I had assumed he was one of yours.” </p>
<p>Ikithon’s face fell into a feigned look of parental disappointment that made Caleb’s blood boil. “Certainly. And I <em>assumed</em> you would know better than to make assumptions about someone who is following you.” He sat back and gave a thoughtful hmm, as if he were weighing his options. “Well. Nothing lost. If you thought he was one of mine, I know you will have treated it like one of my teaching exercises. What did you learn about him, then?” He swept a hand to the side as if to say <em>prove yourself to me.</em> </p>
<p>Caleb felt his jaw clench as he examined the challenge. He could work with that. He had miscalculated before, maybe, but he wasn’t blind. He had seen enough of his new satellite to draw conclusions he would be willing to stand behind. All right, then. Ikithon wanted to be impressed? He would be.</p>
<p>Caleb began to list off everything he knew about the man, ticking each fact off on his fingers. He started with his most solid facts: his daily routine, his routes, even his car, though the last one he only knew from luck. He sprinkled in a few guesses, too: the area of town where he lived (he had to be close, since he seemed to be a constant presence), his country of origin (the accent might be feigned, but if it was, he was a good enough actor that it might as well be genuine). Exact descriptions of where he had been, what he had said. Even his exact height hadn’t escaped Caleb’s notice. Altogether, it was enough to impress anyone.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, Trent Ikithon was not just anyone. </p>
<p>As Caleb spoke, the look of disappointment only grew, and when he finished, his mentor did not offer to break the silence. It made Caleb sweat beneath his collar, but he held his tongue. He knew this tactic well. Ikithon would stay silent, waiting for Caleb to realize that what he had said was not up to snuff, then wait for him to speak up again, until he babbled, or made a mistake, or stumbled, or lied, and then he would swoop in like a vulture. Caleb despised that feeling, like being submitted to inspection and all his flaws pointed out under his mentor’s penetrating eyes. But Ikithon would have no such luck this time. Caleb held his gaze confidently until Trent finally spoke again. </p>
<p>“I see. And that is the whole of it?”</p>
<p>Caleb felt himself hesitate, but he refused to take the bait. “Now that I know the truth of the situation, more specifics could be gathered.”</p>
<p>“More specifics?” He clicked his tongue. “Specifics would be nice, yes, but first we need something foundational. Like a home address, a contact, even a <em>name.</em> You’ve spoken to him in public, were you at least able to get a <em>name?”</em></p>
<p>A prickling sensation crept up Caleb’s neck as he shook his head. “Not yet, but I’m sure I could…”</p>
<p>Ikithon rubbed his temples in a gesture of exasperation. “No, fortunately for both of us, that will not be necessary.” He pulled a thin manila folder out of a filing cabinet behind him. “Thankfully, I do still have some of my own skill, including the skill of foresight as to where my <em>…help</em> might be needed.” </p>
<p>He held the papers out to Caleb, who took them and flipped through. He faintly sensed his pupils dilate in awe as he took in its contents. It was a file on the man who had been following him, and right there, laid out neat like the simplest thing in the world, was what seemed like everything about this man’s entire life. Born in Russia just shy of thirty years earlier, with a difficult early life but a good family name, he had quickly risen to the top of an insurgency group known as the Shadowhand. Far beyond aims so small as politics, they were known for their pursuit of hidden and dangerous knowledge, and tactics to match. They pursued power of truly mythical proportions, calling it ‘the only way to ensure peace.’ Just a few years ago they had been absorbed into the Russian government, when state leaders had aligned themselves with the same goals. Now, he was one of the most dangerous people in the entire eastern half of the world. And Caleb had met him <em>over coffee.</em> He felt like he was at the back end of some strange joke the universe was playing on him. This man could probably accomplish more and worse in a day than the entire CIA, and this morning Caleb had just watched him <em>choke on coffee.</em> </p>
<p>Well. He would file that away for later. Now, there was the rest of this meeting to get through. And, he noted as he looked at the file, there was one small detail he had missed at his first glance. There at the bottom of the page, in tiny, neatly hand-typed black ink, were two short words. A name. </p>
<p><em>Essek Thelyss.</em> </p>
<p>Overwhelmed enough to be past embarrassment, he looked back up to his employer. “You found all this?” </p>
<p>Ikithon nodded. “Although he’s better at covering his tracks than most, yes, I certainly managed. It’s taken a few weeks to gather it all, but now that you have it also, this information will be sufficient to start you on your new assignment. That is, if you believe yourself to be capable of taking this a bit more seriously.”</p>
<p>Caleb glanced back down at the paper. <em>Shadowhand Thelyss.</em> </p>
<p>“I believe myself to be capable, yes.”</p>
<p>“And you are.” Ikithon gave a smile that looked like it had tried to take a flying leap from condescending to encouraging, but had given up halfway through and landed flat on its face. Patronizing. </p>
<p>His yellowing fingernails made a soft scratching sound as he tapped them against the peeling desk and spoke. “I know you to be capable of an undertaking of this nature, which is why I have chosen you for it. Caleb,” He fell silent for a moment, letting the quiet air build up the gravity of what he was about to say. “I want him on our side.”</p>
<p>This time, Caleb was the one sitting in silence, waiting for the punchline. “You… want <em>him…</em> on <em>our</em> side?”</p>
<p>“I do. Look at him. In all likelihood, we don’t know even half of what he is capable of. But when he shows us, I want him to be working <em>for us.”</em></p>
<p>“Forgive me, I thought you had a whole propaganda department to take care of patriotic proselytizing.” </p>
<p>“Oh, please, I’m not asking for a <em>conversion,</em> Widowgast, this isn’t some sunday school. And this man switches sides more easily than outfits, as I’m sure you can see by his history. I wouldn’t trust a declaration of  loyalty from any such person. You yourself would know not to trust any allegiance at all, except that which is guaranteed by your subject’s own motivations. Leave behind these childish notions of sides. No, I want to influence him. <em>Control</em> him. And you, my protégé,” -Caleb winced internally at that word- “You are uniquely able to gain such an influence.” </p>
<p>Something about the way he said the last phrase made a cold dread settle in Caleb’s stomach. He could call to mind far too many instances of so-called “influence,” but that was the way in games of power. Use it or have it used on you. And from experience, he knew which he would choose. </p>
<p>“What did you have in mind?”</p>
<p>He couldn’t quite read the expression he was fixed with after asking that, but it only served to worsen the feeling of dread. </p>
<p>“Hmm. There are a number of possibilities, but I think that’s really your area of expertise, isn’t it, Vollstrecker?”</p>
<p>Caleb bit his tongue, feeling something inside him wither at the reminder of the role he had been trained for. He hated the years of his life it had already stolen from him and he hated what it was still stealing from him now. He hated that it was still a weapon, too-sharp in his hands, still tearing at everything around it, making him and unmaking him and each time worse than before.</p>
<p>He felt the familiar sensation his blood buzzing at his ears, and his breath beginning to shallow. But he willed himself to stay steady, conjuring up his friends’ voices in his head to stay grounded. <em>Time for that later.</em> It had been years, and he had never quite found the time. </p>
<p>Ikithon’s voice cut through the haze. “Widowgast?” He snapped his jaundiced fingers. “Focus.”</p>
<p>“I- ahm. Sorry, I.” He took a short breath, steadying himself as he returned to the chill of the present. He replied mechanically, his mouth forming words calculated to best appease the situation with very little input from his brain. “You have trained me well in that area. Yes. I certainly see the value in forging such an alliance.”</p>
<p>“Indeed. Well, you have spoken with the man yourself. What does your expertise tell you to do in this instance? Where is our best chance at influence?”</p>
<p>Caleb was still none too excited about playing a part in whatever game of deception was being proposed. He began to mumble an excuse. “I will need to… um, to get to know him better, first.”</p>
<p>“I think you’re right on the money, there. Secrets are only useful for a while, and I believe we can be past that point. Get to know him. Bring him in, introduce him to your little friends. Get comfortable with one another.” </p>
<p>Ikithon was the only person on the planet who could make a word as kind as “comfortable” sound so goddamned sinister.</p>
<p>“That... is one possibility, and I’m certainly willing to begin. But there is the problem of the reclamation project. As you mentioned earlier, he was seen at the site of the recovery. After being clearly connected to his work, he will be hesitant to get to know us.”</p>
<p>Ikithon only kept that same patronizing smile on his face. “Possibly, but I truly doubt that he will have any such reservations.”</p>
<p>“Not to doubt you, but- If I may inquire after your reasoning?”</p>
<p>“First of all, he is good at what he does. He does not need to shield himself behind mere beginner’s tricks like simply staying hidden. But in my observations of him, I’ve also gathered that he has a soft spot for a face like yours. <em>Specifically</em> for yours, if that little display this morning was any indication.”</p>
<p>"That’s-"</p>
<p>“It’s fine, nothing to be embarrassed of, you don’t need to deny it. You know I have always been happy to tolerate your more, shall we say, personal pursuits, as long as you are willing to put them to good use. In this case, I should be the one thanking you. I couldn’t have asked for a better inroad.” </p>
<p>This new direction made Caleb feel sick to his stomach. Deception was always uncomfortable, but it became normal after a while in this line of work. And if it was for the greater good, well, at least you could sleep at night. But twisting someone’s affections against them - although, for the record, Caleb was extremely skeptical of that assessment - to betray that felt like crossing one line too many. Gaining the upper hand in a struggle against an enemy, preventing ill-intentioned plans from success, using their influence for ultimate good. That was supposed to be the goal. Let Trent say what he pleased, Caleb resolved that he would find his own better way to meet those goals, just like he always had. Nothing new.</p>
<p>After a moment of thought, he turned back to Ikithon. “It’s an interesting possibility. But that’s only if he’s even willing to talk to me, which I still sincerely doubt.”</p>
<p>Trent shrugged. “You’re certainly welcome to try any method you please, of course. I don’t really care how you get him on our side. Just see that you do. But, consider the recommendation, all right? You know how important this is. You see that you have an opportunity to do some <em>real good</em> here. Do what you please, if you foresee a more convenient method. I simply don’t think you should ignore your available resources. Just like I don’t think you’re going to have any reason to fear him avoiding you.” His voice slowed as he took on the tone he used when teaching. “Remember: people are predictable, Bren. Whatever he sounds like on paper, that applies to him, too. His motivations are as simple as anyone else. You can predict his weaknesses, and if that’s not enough, you know how to find more, until it <em>works.”</em> His manner softened, bookending his insults and his insidious instructions with just enough truth to wash down the pill, the way he always could. “I know you, Bren, and I know you are talented, and I have seen that you are dedicated, and so <em>I know you will not stop until you succeed.”</em> He paused, his smile cracking across his lips like dust peeling away from a dry riverbed. “ I have faith in you. After all, you’ve already proven the strength of our secret weapon.” </p>
<p>Of all the names Ikithon had tried to twist him and fit him into over the years, that was the one Caleb would not abide. It spoke of everything that had been stolen and reshaped and put back wrong. Hearing it directed at him like it should be a compliment sent a sharp spike of defiance slicing through him without warning. “You know I’m not-”</p>
<p>Ikithon waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t sell yourself short. You are, and you’re the <i>best.</i> That’s why I chose you for this. For all of this.” He took on the tone of a parent soothing a petulant child into submission, and Caleb tasted bile. “Bren, don’t look at me like that. You know I would never ask you to hurt anyone. I just want to do what’s best for our country. Don’t you want the same thing?” He pleaded gently. “I know our work is difficult. I’ve been there. But I’ve also seen the terrors of this world, and what it can do to our people. Our good, and innocent people, and I want to protect them. Don’t you want that too?”</p>
<p>Caleb inhaled, deep enough to quell the tremor in his lungs. “Of course. You see how much I do.” </p>
<p>“Then I know you will do whatever it takes to do the right thing.”</p>
<p>He felt the rush of defiance completely drained from him, and his voice was resigned as he replied. “Of course I will.” </p>
<p>“Look at me, Bren.” He obeyed without argument. “We all have certain… weaknesses. Or misgivings, if you like. But you should know that the things about you that everyone around us would like to tell you are flaws, I have only ever seen as opportunities. Use them for good, Bren, and they will become your greatest strengths.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter summary: Caleb's good mood from breakfast is quickly dampened when he is summoned to a meeting with his 'mentor.' Ikithon commends him for bringing back plans to the dodecahedron, but echoes that it would be more useful to establish contact with someone who knows more. As it turns out, he has noticed the individual who seems to have taken an interest in Caleb, and has taken it upon himself to learn more about the man. He reveals that the man is Essek Thelyss, otherwise known as the Shadowhand, a powerful leader within the Russian intelligence community and well known for his ambitious and dangerous goals. Trent believes that the best course of action is to find a way to persuade Essek to join their side, or at least find a way to have influence over him. He encourages Caleb to take this charge as his own. Caleb is not convinced and sees the move as too manipulative, reminding him of ways he himself has been manipulated similarly in the past. However, he agrees to consider what he can do in the interest of the greater good.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In a hallway somewhere not far away, the same fluorescent lights hummed and popped, filling the room with a pale green hue. But they were not the brightest lights in the room: in the center of the space there hung, as if suspended, a small twelve-sided beacon. Intricate silver carvings adorned the sides of the shape, setting it in contrast with its utilitarian surroundings. It cast an unearthly blue glow, like a tiny moon bathing the room in stark lines of light and shadow. </p><p>Somewhere in those shadows, a cold metal drawer was being pulled open slowly, as quietly as could be. A hand reached for the beacon, gently plucking it from its place, and two eyes took one last moment to admire it before placing it carefully in the drawer, tucked between filing folders, situated to look as if it were no more than a piece of common office junk. The drawer clicked shut, then the small lock, and a quiet voice whispered after it. <em>“Byt' bezopasnym.”</em> And the room was dim and empty again. </p><p>____________________________</p><p> </p><p>Evening found Caleb hunched over a particleboard carrel tucked into a quiet corner of the Cobalt Soul library. The precious few books he had managed to find that seemed relevant sat closed, bookmarked with the pieces of paper Caleb had used to copy down notes. So far, nothing had been very helpful, except a volume of articles on the Xorhassian language. There wasn’t even a dictionary; the language had been dead far too long for that. He had used what he could find to translate the greater part of the scrolls, but there were still enough gaps that he didn’t feel much closer to understanding. </p><p>Frustrated, he scratched a line through another dead-end attempt as Beau rounded the corner. She was directing Fjord, who carried an impossibly high stack of books as he followed her through the shelves. </p><p>He set them down with an <em>mmf</em> muffled by the tomes in front of his face. “Are you really going to try to read all of these in one night? I know you’re fast, but those things are hefty.” He straightened up, bending slightly backward with a hand on his back as Beau leaned a hip against the desk to the right. Caleb stared blankly at the books, unsure how to answer. He had only asked for a few of them. </p><p>“Nah, he’s probably not gonna need half of those,” Beau answered. “I made you carry those for me as part of your training.”</p><p>Fjord made his best mock-indignant face at her. “I can’t believe you would deceive me like that. And after I offered to spend the whole day helping you, too!”</p><p>“Hey, trainer gets to choose the training. Besides, it isn’t my fault that <em>someone</em> got us kicked out of the Cobalt training gym.”</p><p>“The gym doesn’t allow guests!”</p><p>“That was because of you! How was I supposed to know you were gonna try to use the equipment without knowing how and almost get yourself pinned? Cut the complaining or it’s more books to carry, Stone.” </p><p>Fjord laughed, raising his hands in surrender. “I know, I know. Sorry, Caleb, you might have to get your own books next time. This one has had me climbing all over this damn library for hours.”</p><p>“….um. Climbing?”</p><p>Beau nodded solemnly. “It was a total coincidence that the ladder has magically disappeared. It couldn’t have possibly been hidden in the back closet.”</p><p>“Right.” Caleb glanced between the two of them. He wasn’t exactly sure what sort of half-joke, half-argument they were getting up to this time, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to get too involved in it. Fortunately, Beau saved him by tugging a book out from the middle of the stack and handing it to him. </p><p>“So, besides giving this guy the runaround, I spent most of the day researching Xorhassian. I see you got the translation guide, did that help out any?”</p><p>“I translated most of the words themselves, but I still feel just about as lost, to tell the truth.”</p><p>“Yeah, I thought that might be the case. Look here.” She flipped through the book, and from what Caleb glanced as the pages turned, it seemed to be a volume of some sort of comparative mythology. “Turns out Xorhas is kind of a myth. Or, like, more like an urban legend. Apparently, Xorhas was this tiny group of people that lived somewhere up in Northern Asia a couple thousand years ago. That much is fact. These days there’s pretty much none of them left, right, nobody speaks the language, all that. Pretty sad. Except that now, a lot of people are really convinced that they’re actually still out there, and they went underground and became, like, a super-powerful tiny group secretly controlling the entire country and all that good stuff. Some real deep conspiracy-theory shit. It’s actually problematic as all hell, ya know, turning a people group that obviously had a rough time of it into some sort of half-dream, half-nightmare. But there’s not enough info to really tell where the fact ends and the stories begin, surprise surprise.”</p><p>Caleb studied the page where she indicated, eyeing a timeline that seemed to at least partly support what she was saying. “And did any sources mention the dodecahedron?”</p><p>“Uh, not any of the good ones. Some archaeology thug mentioned finding one of them at a dig, and they put it down as a ‘religious object,’ which is archaeologist-speak for ‘we don’t know.’ Conspiracy theorists took it and ran with it. It could be anything from reincarnation to literal magic to time travel.” </p><p>Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Could be?”</p><p>Beau crouched down beside him, voice falling to a more serious tone. “That’s the thing, man. I know it sounds crazy ridiculous, right, but I think there might actually be something to it. After all, you already know there’s something super-powerful about it. That’s why you’re studying it in the first place, yeah?”</p><p>Fjord interjected from behind her. “It could be powerful, sure, but that doesn’t make it magical. Little far-fetched, don’t you think?” He wiggled his fingers in a parody of a wizard casting a spell. “If there was seriously a magic object out there, first of all, somebody would have dug it up by now. And second of all, we wouldn’t be in this mess, because they would have used it to put us smack dab in the middle of a worse one. Human nature.”</p><p>Caleb shrugged. “Far-fetched, I agree. But they do say magic is just science we don’t understand yet. It may be that the object makes use of principles we have yet to fully examine. It wouldn’t be the first time a myth held some truth.” </p><p>Beau nodded enthusiastically. “Science, magic, sure. Call it whatever. If this thing has it, I think we actually have a chance to get it into the right hands.” </p><p>Caleb scooped up their stolen scrolls in his hands. “That’s what these are for, ja? But, as informative as your research is…” He tapped his pen on the desk, trying to select just one question from the hundreds that had formed themselves in his brain since the conversation began. “It doesn’t really tell us what the dodecahedron actually does. Or how to use it.” </p><p>Fjord and Beau shared a glance, and both of them started tilting their heads toward Caleb, in a gesture of “You tell him. No, you tell him. No, you.” Finally, Fjord pointed at Beau. “She has a theory.”</p><p>“It’s not just me- Fjord, you agree with me, right?” </p><p>He nodded hesitantly. “It’s… weird. But I think it’s possible.” </p><p>Beau looked at him excitedly. “I think it’s… I think it’s time travel.”</p><p>Caleb sputtered, almost tricked into laughing in surprise. “Good one.”</p><p>“No, I’m serious, man! Look at this!” She jabbed her finger back towards the book. </p><p>“Beau. Time travel is a pipe dream made up by science fiction authors to sell more paperbacks.”</p><p>“Okay, first of all how dare you, those books are awesome and you’re just jealous because all your books are deeply boring. And second of all, you know more about relativity than anyone I know, you know time isn’t as fixed as we all thought.”</p><p>“Relativity is an intriguing model, yes, but it still has rules.”</p><p>Fjord picked up a book with a long title referencing something about new discoveries and spacetime fabric and set it on the desk. “Then can’t those rules be used in new ways? God knows I don’t understand it, but it’s completely possible that whoever made these beacons understood the rules of time in a way none of us do. Yet.”</p><p>“Besides,” Beau added, “It’s more limited than science fiction type stuff. It’s not like you hop in the thing and it whisks you away to wherever whenever, like a time machine thing. But wherever Xorhassian religion is mentioned, there’s references to something called Dunemancy. <em>Controlling time.</em> Double check my translation if you want, but you know I’m right. I don’t get it either, but it seems like whoever made these things did.”</p><p>Caleb stared at the two of them, looking back with the excited expressions of two kids at their first science fair. He rubbed a hand over his face. “You two have been watching too much <em>Star Trek.”</em> </p><p>“You wouldn’t say that if you would watch with us.”</p><p>“Absolutely not.”</p><p>“Shame. There’s a character on there that’s just like you.”</p><p>“I know the one you mean, Jester’s told me all about it, and I honestly don’t see the similarity.” </p><p>“But you’ve got the whole—“</p><p>“No, we are not having this conversation again.” Caleb put his head in his hands and heard himself chuckling internally at the two of them, despite how tired he felt. This whole thing was ridiculous. But his friends were constantly determined to out-ridiculous anything that they came up against, and he loved them for it. He looked through his fingers at them. “Fine. If you want to prove you’re right, help me with this translation.”</p><p>As they pulled out their chairs and sat, they both wore a look that said “Don’t worry. We will.”</p><p>_________________________________</p><p> </p><p>The sun was just beginning to touch the horizon when Fjord stood up and stretched. “Looks like it’s almost dinnertime. What do you say we take a break and grab some sandwiches?” </p><p>Beau pointed at him. “Don’t you dare bring food into my library, Stone.” </p><p>“Not your library, but fine. Come with me, then. If we go to the deli around the corner we’ll still have plenty of time to wrap up here before close.”</p><p>Caleb felt momentarily reluctant to leave his work; he had been on a roll after having found an article with some credible ideas about a few of the larger symbols drawn on the scrolls. But they had all been slouched over in the dim light for too long, and he was grateful for the reminder of the physical maintenance he so often forgot. Hopefully, it would clear the mind and let them make some real headway after dinner. </p><p>A moment before reaching the entrance, Fjord tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, one thing before we go.” </p><p>Caleb hung back as his friend reached into his pocket, pulling out a colorful sheet of paper. “Jester gave me this after breakfast today. She took it upon herself to be our own forensic sketch artist, and, well, does this look anything like the guy we’re keeping an eye out for?”</p><p>Jester’s own sense of style was on full display for this sketch, and Caleb felt a touch of fondness upon seeing that. “Ja, she’s certainly very talented. He, uhm, he does not usually have hearts for eyes.” </p><p>Fjord smiled. “I figured that. But it’s him, otherwise?” </p><p>“That’s him.” </p><p>Beau materialized between the two of them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. “Great, so this morning went good? I was meaning to ask, but you two thugs got me excited about time travel.” </p><p>“Again, no such thing.” </p><p>“Sure. Anyway, everything went all right?”</p><p>Caleb found himself falling silent at that question. Breakfast with Jester had gone fine, yes. She was as observant and lovely as always. Unfortunately, that had not been the only part of his morning. </p><p>Fjord noticed his hesitation. “Jester told me about your conversation. Are you still worried about making a scene? It sounds to me like you have nothing to worry about.”</p><p>“Nein, it is not that.”</p><p>“Did something else happen?”</p><p>Caleb was silent for a moment, searching for the right words to describe the conversation with Ikithon. After some thought, the whole thing really only felt bizarre. He sighed. “I suppose you might as well know. First thing this morning, Ikithon called me into his office for a conversation.” </p><p>Beau grimaced. “Ew. That asshole again?”</p><p>“That asshole again, yes.”</p><p>“What did he want?”</p><p>“Well, he… it’s a bit hard to explain.”</p><p>Fjord nodded understandingly. “Because it’s complicated, or because you don’t want to say it out loud?”</p><p>“Hm. You know me too well.”</p><p>“’S ok. Take your time.”</p><p>Caleb found himself looking down at the street, kicking at pebbles as they rounded the corner and saw the deli a few buildings away. He stopped, not wanting to have this conversation within earshot of strangers. “Well, it actually involves that drawing you have, in a way.” </p><p>Fjord reached into his pocket. “Jester’s drawing from this morning?”</p><p>“Yes. Apparently, Trent knows more about him. I was right about him following me.”</p><p>Fjord’s expression formed a <em>Yikes.</em> “Wow. What else did you find out?”</p><p>“Well, Trent confirmed that he’s working with Russia. Apparently, he’s in weapons acquisition, and it sounds like he is <em>terrifyingly</em> good at it.”</p><p>Beau’s eyes grew wide. “So I was right, he IS after the beacon!” </p><p>“I think so.” </p><p>“And if he’s after it, it really is a stupid-powerful weapon! Oh my god, vindication!” She pumped a fist in the air. “Did Icky tell you anything else about the beacon?”</p><p>Caleb shook his head. “He didn’t mention the beacon at all. He only had me in there to talk about Thelyss.”</p><p>“What’s Thelyss?” </p><p>“That’s the man’s name. Essek Thelyss. Sometimes called Shadowhand.”</p><p>“So what has Icky so concerned with this dude? Why did he want to talk to you about it?” </p><p>“That’s the concerning part. He’s of the opinion that if this Shadowhand is really as dangerous as he seems, we should be… we should, quote, ‘encourage him to become attached to our side.’”</p><p>Beau frowned. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” </p><p>Fjord leaned up against the light pole beside them. “Knowing Trent, nothing good. Did he tell you anything else? Is there something he wants you to do about it?”</p><p>Caleb paused, and they both looked back at him with their best “take your time” faces. “There is. He… Well. He encouraged me to… get to know Essek.”</p><p>“Not exactly what I was expecting.”</p><p>“Yeah, I was honestly expecting way worse.”</p><p>Caleb stayed silent.</p><p>“Uh oh. That means there’s more, doesn’t it.”</p><p>“He thinks I should ‘get to know’ Essek by… how did he put it? by ‘Encouraging him to get comfortable.’ Oh, and let us not forget that my ‘weaknesses’ can become my ‘greatest opportunities!’ He’s really so uplifting and wise, isn’t he?” Caleb finished with a bite of bitter sarcasm.</p><p>Understanding dawned on Beau’s face as he recounted the conversation. “Oh. Oh hell no.” </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p> “That is fucked up.” </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“I mean, that is so deeply fucked up, my man.” </p><p>“Yes, it is.” </p><p>“What the hell. Are you suuuuuure I can’t just take this asshole out?”</p><p>Caleb let out a frustrated huff, glancing around them out of habit, always checking and re-checking for hidden listeners. “I’m not saying it wouldn’t be nice. But he knows what he’s doing. and… I don’t know. For as evil as he is, at least he’s mostly just evil to me. Myself and the other members of Projekt Vollstrecker. We signed ourselves up for it. Because- he’s doing good, you know? Protecting our country. It’s not like he’s the only one who’s ever used some pretty fucked-up tactics to get that done.”</p><p>Beau had him fixed with a look that was… much less sympathetic than he would have liked. “You know that’s about eighteen layers of awful, right?”</p><p>Caleb felt himself deflate. “Yeah. Trust me, I know.”</p><p>The sun was finally setting, and Caleb was playing his favorite game of trade-miserable-glances-with-the-sidewalk until Fjord saved him from the uncomfortable silence, patting him on the back. “Come on. No self-doubt contests before dinner, all right?” He motioned Beau to come with them, heading towards the deli. “We’ll get it figured out. We always do.”</p><p> </p><p>___________________________</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry if the Russian is wonky here or going forward, I'm just hoping to add in a little flavor, but doing my best to get it accurate! If by some chance one of my readers notices any mistakes please drop me a line ~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>minor cw for a brief mention of guns/firearms (that'll be ongoing from here). No violence depicted.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>___________________________</p><p>Dark was just falling as Essek walked from the grocery store to his small apartment. He wasn’t quite used to American food, but luckily, groceries here always seemed blessed with variety. That meant he could always find enough to make a passable recipe at home, which he did almost every night. </p><p>He shivered against the cold of the evening. That, too, reminded him of home. He noticed that he could see his breath forming an icy cloud in front of him as he removed his gloves to open the door. He was already in the kitchen, shrugging off his coat and setting paper grocery bags on the counter, when it occurred to him that the door should have been locked. </p><p>Why wasn’t the door locked?</p><p>He willed himself not to show any signs of alarm as his mind raced, his pulse suddenly loud in his ears. Had he somehow forgotten to lock up as he left that morning? He had never been so careless before, but maybe he had been distracted. It was at least <em>possible</em> that he had let it slip. He very much hoped he had, even as he subtly nudged his jacket aside and placed a hand on his waist, just above the reassuring weight of his firearm. He could defend himself, if it came down to that. </p><p>His heart raced as he continued to feign unloading his groceries, slowly laying vegetables out on the counter beside the new refrigerator the landlord had insisted on installing. It was painted with glossy enamel paint, and he had noted before that he was able to see an approximation of his own reflection in it. He kept his eyes fixed on it now, watching intently for any flicker of motion. </p><p>Before long, he was rewarded. He took the image in instantly as a figure appeared, silently rounding the corner from the small sitting room. They approached stealthily, but he could tell by the blurry outline that they were not currently wielding a weapon. Quickly, Essek drew in a breath, bracing himself for whatever confrontation might be coming, and spoke.</p><p>“I should warn you, I am armed. It would be in your best interest to leave immediately.” </p><p>“Don’t be like that, Essek. It’s been weeks, didn’t you miss me?”</p><p>His whole body flooded with relief, itching with unused adrenaline, and he visibly relaxed, simultaneously thunking his forehead against the refrigerator door in frustration. “God. Damn it Verin. We’ve talked about this.” </p><p>He turned to see Verin rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Don’t blame me. It’s freezing. I got cold waiting for you on the stairs. And besides, I was getting looks from your neighbors. It’s not my fault you don’t bring people around often enough for them to get bored.” </p><p>Essek scoffed. “Not that anybody could get bored of you, right?”</p><p>“Never, thank you very much.”</p><p>“It was an insult, actually,” Essek replied, but there was a smile hinting its way into his voice. He didn’t really mind the teasing, now that his heart rate was returning to normal. “If you’re cold, I hear sleeves are helpful. How did you get in, anyway?”</p><p>Verin closed the distance between the sitting room and the kitchen in a few silent steps, and settled to rest his elbows on the formica countertops. “Because I’m better at my job, obviously. You should really set up some extra security precautions, though. I can show you how to set a tamper trap at the door nobody will notice, if you like.”</p><p>“I don’t think that will be necessary. You’re the only person who has deigned to break into my apartment, so if you agree to just call me next time, I’ll be all set.”</p><p>“I’m the only person who has broken in <em>so far,”</em> Verin corrected. “I worry about you! I know you’re not accustomed to fieldwork yet. Aren’t I allowed to feel protective of my big brother? You have to be careful, out here all on your own like this.” The teasing on his face faded to show genuine concern for just a moment, and Essek might have almost been touched by the familial sentiment if his visitor hadn’t immediately moved on to a conversation he wasn’t particularly looking forward to. </p><p>“Speaking of you being all alone out here, that’s technically the reason you get the gift of my presence this evening. It’s report time. How is your assignment going?” </p><p>“Progressing. Slowly, but steadily. I can write out something more comprehensive if you’ll wait a moment.” </p><p>“Wonderful. I’m so glad we got all our business out of the way.”</p><p>“You don’t, ahm,” Essek felt his ears flutter in slight confusion. His brother wasn’t known for cutting business short, and he wondered if the nonchalance meant there was something else going on. “You don’t have any… questions for me?”</p><p>“Why, are you planning on leaving something out?”</p><p>“Of course not.” </p><p>Verin pushed off the countertops and straightened up. “Perfect! Then I’m done here if you are, as long as you promise to be thorough. And I know you can’t help yourself when it comes to a good parcel of paperwork, so I won’t deprive you of your only hobby by writing it for you, Annnd…” He drew out the word as if to build suspense for some big revelation. “And now, you’ve still got plenty of time to head right back out that door and do something with your Friday night for once.” </p><p>“There’s no need. I’ve already done plenty of work for one day.”</p><p>“Varobushek, I mean something <em>actually fun.</em> Look at you, you’re young… well, young enough; you’re single, you’re- you’re unbelievable. You’re finally out of your house for once, and you just found yourself a new one to hide in. And in a new country, no less! Can’t you go, I don’t know, have a drink and give someone a smile? Live your life for once! Please? For me? One of us has to, and we both know it’s not going to be me.” </p><p>Essek fished a handful of potatoes from the pantry and set to washing them, sighing. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to putting himself in an undesired social setting just so his sibling could live vicariously through him. “I don’t think I need to point out that you’re in the same boat as I am, here. Breaking into your brother’s apartment isn’t exactly the best way to meet people. But besides- In truth, I don’t really see the appeal. The advice is… noted, but I feel like going and drinking a few glasses of the world’s best truth serum probably isn’t in my best interest, given the current setup?” He knew that excusing himself from alcohol wouldn’t get Verin off the case of his social life for good, he had taken that as his personal cause years ago, but at least it seemed to mollify him for the moment. As he reached for a small knife to peel the potatoes, he noticed a hint of disappointment on Verin’s face and mentally chastised himself even as he felt himself relenting. He should really be better at resisting that face by now. “If you really think I need to ‘do something with my evening’… Why don’t you stay for dinner?”</p><p>The smile he got in response was surprisingly affectionate. “I would love to stay.”</p><p>“Good. Then make yourself useful and boil some water, won’t you?”</p><p>_____________________________</p><p> </p><p>Evening was deepening as the three readers huddled in the library, making less headway with their research than they would have liked. Fjord was apologetic as he excused himself shortly after dinner. After that, it was Beau who was the next to give in to frustration, pushing her chair back from the table they slouched over. “Okay. I have an idea, but I don’t really think you’re going to like it.” </p><p>Caleb peered over suspiciously. “That never bodes well. What is it?”</p><p>She waved a page covered with notes in the air. “I keep running up against something called the ‘Luxon.’ I thought it was just something I couldn’t translate yet, but the more I read, the more I’m pretty sure it’s a proper name.”</p><p>“That sounds like a lead, not a problem.”</p><p>“It would be if it actually <em>gave</em> me a lead. But every reference I find to Luxon just… cuts off. No explanation, not even a footnote. The more I read, the more it’s like somebody took a sharpie and a pair of scissors to every single one of these. I’m sorry to say it again, but this whole thing is really setting off my conspiracy radar.”</p><p>Caleb eyed his own notes doubtfully. “I haven’t seen any evidence of tamper. I think censorship is… unlikely. But I’m still tempted to believe you. It really feels like something is missing, and I would love to think that’s not just because I’m missing it.” </p><p>“So… that brings us to the part you’re gonna hate. If someone has actually been keeping information about this ‘Luxon’ hidden, I’m pretty sure I know exactly where that info would be. And, um, we’re kind of in luck, is the good news.”</p><p>Caleb stared at her for a full five seconds before slowly bending down and pressing his forehead to the desk beneath him, dreading whatever scheme she had in mind. “Beauregard. My dear friend. Please, tell me that you are not trying to get me to help you break into the Cobalt Soul’s archives. Again.” </p><p>“Hey, it was really important last time, and you know it! And there wouldn’t have been any other way, either, if Jester hadn’t gotten her shady friend to get the info instead. He probably stole it from the Cobalt themselves anyway!”  </p><p>“Remind me again, if you will, why you cannot just access the archives yourself?”</p><p>Beau grumbled a moment before responding. “Because my security clearance isn’t high enough.”</p><p>“Why not? What was it Dairon said?”</p><p>“You’re an asshole, Widowgast.”</p><p>“Humor me.”</p><p>She glared at him witheringly before giving in. “Because I ‘keep pulling stunts that get me in trouble with the Soul.’” </p><p>“But I see this plan to <em>break into their archives</em> is not one of those stunts.”</p><p>“Ugh. If you have a better plan, feel free.” </p><p>That retort took Caleb aback more than he was expecting, and he replied almost without thinking, talking to himself more than to her. “Hm. That’s the second time someone has told me that today.”</p><p>It took her a moment to realize what he was referring to. “Oh- sorry. I didn’t realize.”</p><p>He waved a hand. “It’s… fine. Speaking of him, though, he’s interested in the dodecahedrons as well. Do you think there’s any chance I could get him to exert some influence and ask for the files? We both have pretty high clearance ourselves.”</p><p>Beau shook her head. “Not the kind you’ll need. CIA clearance doesn’t cut it with the Soul; you’ve gotta be, like, UN at bare minimum, if you’re not a Cobalt member yourself. And the Cobalt soul <em>hates</em> Ikithon. No dice.”</p><p>“So… you can’t access it, and we can’t ask for it.”</p><p>“Yup,” she trailed off, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Absolutely no legal way to do it.”</p><p>“None that I can see.” He pressed his palms into his eyes, making them swim. “Fuck. All right.”</p><p>“Ha! You’ll do it? We’re doing this?”</p><p>“My blood will be on your hands, Lionett.”</p><p>“Finally!” She pumped a fist in the air. “C’mon, pack up and let’s get outta here before my deadbeat coworkers get suspicious. We gotta get Yasha and Veth.”</p><p>“Yash- wait, Veth? Why?”</p><p>“Yasha used to do security with me, remember? She knows the cameras better than anybody.”</p><p>“I still don’t want to drag Veth into this.”</p><p>“Uh-huh, great. You gonna disable a series of biometric locks yourself?” His silence was all the answer she needed. “Cobalt doesn’t mess around, man. Luckily for you, it’s still three hours before shift change, so we’ve got plenty of time to plan.”</p><p>Despite Beau’s excitement, the cold air on the walk home gave Caleb plenty of time to fall silent, wrapping himself up in his coat and sinking his teeth into some solid preemptive regret. He hated this plan. Could nothing be normal these days? Could nobody just ask people questions? Lord knew he couldn’t point a finger at secrets or subterfuge, sure, but maybe Caduceus was onto something with his whole “radical honesty” thing.</p><p>This was his frame of mind when Beau paused mid-rant and looked over her shoulder at him before they walked through the door to her house. “Hey. So… did you decide yet?”</p><p>“About what?”</p><p>“Are you… are you gonna do it?”</p><p>“I don’t follow.”</p><p>She sighed, rolling her neck in the way she always did when she didn’t want to say what she meant. “You know… the thing? With the guy?”</p><p>“…Oh.”</p><p>“Yeah. Not to be that person, but I mean. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, right?”</p><p>Caleb watched his breath crystallize in the air for a moment while he formulated his response. Finally, he shook his head at her. “I respect Ikithon’s knowledge and experience. He’s very powerful — and very paranoid. As such he shares the common delusion of all powerful and paranoid people: That everyone either loves him, or hates him. Or his students by extension, I suppose. Untrue: Most people don’t give a shit.”</p><p>Beau barked out a surprised laugh. “I knew I taught you something right.”</p><p>“Hmm. So you know as well as I do that this Thelyss is unlikely to be motivated by any such base emotions. But- he does want <em>something.</em> I just need to figure out <em>what.”</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>________________________________</p><p>Unsurprisingly, Yasha and Veth were completely on board with Beau’s cockamamie plans. He should have known they would all agree to any chaos one of them could cook up. He only silently prayed that Jester wouldn’t somehow get looped into it, because then the situation would truly be more unpredictable than he could handle. </p><p>Across the room, he and Veth were trading glances. “I cannot believe you are letting this happen,” he thought in her direction.</p><p>“I can’t believe you agreed to it,” She shrugged back with a mania-tinged smirk.</p><p>Molly grinned at the four of them while they stood over the dining room table, watching Yasha sketch out a diagram of camera placement in the archival rooms. “Hey, Veth, you need somebody to watch your kid tonight?” </p><p>“Yeza’s at home, he’ll be alright.” </p><p>“Aw, c’mon, give the old man a break and let Luc shoot somebody else in the knees for once.”</p><p>Veth pointed at him accusingly. “You’re worse than he is!”</p><p>“Tsk, you ought to be grateful. Somebody’s got to teach him acrobatics.”</p><p>“You’re a menace, Tealeaf. Last time you watched Luc I came home to him <em>literally</em> swinging from the chandelier.”</p><p>“You don’t even have a chandelier.”</p><p>“Not anymore!” </p><p>Caleb was pulled away from watching their exchange when Yasha beckoned him over. She pointed to a route she had marked out in a colored pen. “These are the corners where you can be safe without getting caught in view of the cameras. A lot of the most secure rooms don’t even have cameras at all, because they’re more afraid of hackers than thieves.”</p><p>“That seems a little suspicious. Does nobody mind the glaring security error?”</p><p>“I know. I told them a hundred times. But, you know, budget this and training that, and it looks like we got lucky. That is not all, though. Even though there are no cameras in the room you are going to, there <em>are</em> alarms. They are set to listen for sounds. So no one can see anything in there, but if you start making noise… you know.”</p><p>Caleb nodded. “Could be worse. I can be silent enough, I think. That’s less danger than I anticipated by far.”</p><p>Veth fidgeted nervously with her lock tools. “Actually, I’m pretty sure that means that room will be the most dangerous part of the whole operation.” Caleb tilted his head toward her, slight confusion showing on his face, as she continued. “Quiet is the name of the game in there. That may not typically be a problem for us, but it also means that if something goes south while you're inside, you can’t call for help. And I won’t have a way to contact you. As soon as that door closes, we are both completely on our own.” </p><p>The four of them grew quiet as that realization set in. Solo missions were, to say the least, not their strong point. And they were certainly not Caleb’s favorite. The possibility of getting separated now loomed like a bad omen on the horizon. He considered the chart Yasha had drawn up showing the guard rotations.</p><p>“According to this, we are only going to have about twenty minutes in this room before we would be discovered by a guard. Less, because much of that time we will spend making our entrance and exit. So really, we would only be alone for a few minutes. Fifteen, maybe. Any more than that, and the others will know to send someone in. We are pretty competent, yes? I think we can make it for fifteen minutes.”</p><p>That plan seemed to reassure them; his friends nodded their agreements. It always helped to have a real detail planned out. That was something they so rarely managed to do, that the relief of having a real plan maybe overshadowed the danger that it still held. </p><p>Veth seemed to be sticking a mental pin in a corkboard. “Yeah. We can do fifteen. Yasha, I’m fine to sneak around whatever, but what are you thinking about getting past guards?”</p><p>“No idea. Ask my wife.”</p><p>Beau gave her a sideways smile and a wink. “That’s where my, uh, charms come in.”</p><p>“Beauregard. You do not have any of those.”</p><p>Yasha made a mock threatening motion towards Caleb. “Be nice.” </p><p>“Yeah! Anyway, It’s not like I actually have to cause a distraction,” Beau retorted. “I just called and asked to pick up a night shift, and I’ll make sure to scoot everybody away from the hallway you’re going to. Line up the rotations and stuff, so you can miss them as long as you time it to my signal. Just make sure you stay out of the cameras and don’t get me in trouble, m‘kay?”</p><p>Caleb looked uncertain. “It’s not that I doubt your abilities, but this is less of a plan and more of a few holes we are hoping to slot ourselves into by luck.”</p><p>“Yeah, sure, that’s how plans are. It’s improv guidance. That’s how we do. Look, you don’t need to be so paranoid about this. ‘S not like you’re breaking into some government facility full of trigger happy ex-military. Cobalt Soul’s a… I mean, it’s a glorified library. Our security is practically just policy, not like, actual consequences. You’ll basically just get your name on a naughty list and probably get banned from the library for life, which, like, I know is probably your worst nightmare, but honestly might be good for you. Just try not to piss anyone off, and, uh, maybe try not to run into Dairon for a few months.”</p><p>“I just… can’t shake the feeling that something is bound to go wrong. It can’t actually be that simple.”</p><p>Veth hopped up on top of her chair. “You wish it were simple! Nope, you’re not getting in there without the help of me and these bad boys!” She brandished her set of thieves’ tools joyously.</p><p>“And you are familiar with the locks used in the archives?”</p><p>Yasha beamed at her. “She is. Brought her home an extra once.”</p><p>In confirmation, Veth reached into her sack and pulled out a clunky-looking metal tumbler, jimmying it open in under five seconds. “Yep, lots of practice, you’ve got nothing to worry about!”</p><p>“You’ve all been planning this for years,” Caleb accused. “I can’t believe you’ve dragged me into this.”</p><p>“We weren’t planning anything, I swear! Just… prepared.”</p><p>“Well. I sure hope you’re right about that.”</p><p>__________________________</p><p>It was 9:55pm, and Caleb and Veth were leaning against the wall of a boarded-up shop directly adjacent to the Cobalt library, listening to traffic noise in the distance. Veth shivered and pulled her coat closer around her. She had an impatient look in her eye and was tapping her foot like a malfunctioning metronome, making Caleb wonder if he was going to have to hold her back by her collar to prevent her from charging in before Beau’s signal. The only light in sight was a streetlamp at the distant entrance of the library building, where they could see their friend walk through the dim circle of light on her rounds. A thin layer of icy snow crunched underneath her feet as she folded her arms in a gesture no one but they would know meant “all good to go.”</p><p>Veth glanced up at Caleb. “That’s the go-ahead. Are you ready?”</p><p>He took a breath, steeling himself. “I’m ready. Just… curious what will go wrong.”</p><p>“Don’t jinx it. We’re great at plans.”</p><p>He let out a short sound of amusement, not quite a laugh, but enough to let his friend know that he had understood her sarcasm. “Thank you. For coming with me.”</p><p>She patted his knee in a gesture of reassurance. “Yeah. Anytime. We look out for each other, right? That’s what we do.” </p><p>“That’s what we do.”</p><p>“Great. So… let’s do it.”</p><p>And with that, she vanished into the shadows of the building, tools already in hand.</p><p>His friend always caught him off guard with how quickly she could scurry, and by the time he caught up to her, she had just popped open the first lock and was on to sliding out the deadbolt. “Get close. We don’t have long to get in before the next guard comes around. You still got Yasha’s chart memorized?”</p><p>“Don’t worry. We still have a minute and a half before the first scheduled round comes by.”</p><p>“Well, let’s hope nobody feels like being early today. And… there!” There was a quiet metallic <em>clink</em> as the deadbolt slid out of its moorings. Veth’s hand wavered just above the handle, feeling the prickle of apprehension as she prayed that Yasha had been able to disarm the door alarm according to plan. She held her breath and pushed the door open as quickly as she could without squeaking the hinges. Silence. And just like that, the two were inside.  </p><p>The hallways were almost pitch-black. According to Yasha, the night guards only ever used flashlights for light. Something about not damaging delicate items in the library archives with too much radiation. Whatever the reason, it was certainly a boon for the two of them, as they crept their way through the building avoiding the path of security footage as best they could. There were a few points where it was impossible, and they had only the darkness to cover them, but both slipped with practiced ease through even the thinnest areas offered by the very darkest shadows. With his back pressed against a wall, Caleb made a mental note to remind Veth of this moment the next time she gave him a hard time about being too skinny.</p><p>Whatever strings Beau had pulled to make sure the guard rotation happened at exactly the right time had, miraculously, worked. Caleb and Veth held their breath together as they entered the final hallway, listening. The building was silent as far as even Veth’s keen ears could hear, no footsteps, not even an electric hum. The only sound that broke the silence was the muffled rattles and taps that came from the lock she now concentrated on. If Caleb had noticed that this one took her twice as long as normal, at least he was gracious enough not to say anything. </p><p>She nodded to her friend while she worked. “All right. Get your memorizing cap on. As long as this last door doesn’t give me trouble, which it <em>won’t,”</em> (she paused to glare at it and curse all doors, generally,) “you’ll have a good amount of time to search, but none to waste.”</p><p>He seemed to be running mental calculations before he responded. “Our entrance took us five and a half minutes, so we should leave six for our exit. That leaves me eighteen and a half minutes. More than I expected to find and memorize whatever we need. It’s not much, but I’ve done with less. I’ll be out in eighteen.”</p><p>Veth nodded. “All right. I’ll be standing guard outside the door. Signal me if anything goes wrong. Let’s go.” </p><p>Caleb gulped down a lungful of air, hurrying to slip through the door the minute he felt her push him towards it. In twelve seconds, he was in.</p><p>______________________________________</p><p> </p><p>Inside, the room was dark and silent. The sudden stillness of it after their hurried entrance was almost deafening. Caleb stood still, slowly letting his senses adjust, feeling his perception expanding to fit this new space. The air was full of the acrid tang of chemicals used to restore and preserve the delicate documents housed here. His eyes might as well have been closed for how much he could see, but even so, he shut them as he inhaled, taking a strange pleasure in the unnatural calm. The quiet was dizzying, so different from the constant sensory overload of the world outside. His heart was pounding in his ears, but beyond that, he heard nothing, not even the constant electrical buzz of the daytime; lights, climate control, cameras, all of it was absent. </p><p>That, at least, was a relief. He made a quick scan to check for any tiny red points of light, tell-tale signs of hidden surveillance he might have missed. It seemed Yasha had been right about the lack of cameras, strange as it seemed. Confirming it unwound one tiny thread of anxiety from him, and slowly, he dared to move further into the room, reaching for the tiny flashlight he carried with him. </p><p>The dim light barely helped him wade through the thick darkness, only showing him enough to take his next step. Carefully, he made his way around the room, grateful for the carpet that muffled his steps. His gait certainly wouldn’t have been enough to alert the audio sensors- according to Beau, they allowed for standard background noise- but the quiet here was so tangible that even the thump of footsteps would have felt deafening. </p><p>The space seemed to be laid out almost exactly as Beau had indicated. It seemed more like a cramped meeting room in a corporate office than a repository for protected knowledge from throughout the world, with utilitarian filing cabinets packed into what looked like every inch of space not taken up by the round faux-wood table and mismatched chairs. Wherever he went, his light did not quite reach to the walls, leaving him with the unsettling feeling of floating untethered in empty space, even though his feet were firmly planted on the floor.</p><p>His fingers brushed against the cool metal of the cabinets as he walked, eyes scanning the labels for what he needed. Many of the drawers bore red-and-white candy striped tape, clearly marking out where the most confidential files were stored. Mercifully, whoever was in charge of this room seemed to have arranged the files alphabetically, instead of by whatever incomprehensible system of categories they used in the proper library. His mind flipped through everything he knew about their object of study. <em>Beacon? Dodecahedron?</em> He doubted that would be enough. He would need a proper name, not just a descriptor. </p><p>Deciding to skip generalities, he bypassed the first third of the cabinets. Not enough time to waste. Carefully, he held his light to the labels, searching for what Beau had mentioned earlier. Even if it did sound half-baked, he needed to know. And besides, she would never let him live it down if he returned empty-handed.</p><p>The labels scrolled by, barely registering in his brain as he scanned. Kima - Ki’Nau, Kryn - Lens… There. Ludinous - Mirrim. Somewhere in there, if it was anywhere, was what he sought. <em>Luxon.</em> </p><p>Gently, Caleb tugged at the handle. Locked. He swore internally. Of course it would be locked, and with the world’s best lock pick twenty feet away and no way to signal her. But there was nothing to be done. If this was getting opened, he would have to be the one to do it. He thought back gratefully to the time his friend had decided he needed “rogue lessons'' as he fumbled in his pocket for a simple set of pins and tension rods. It was only a cabinet; nothing biometric, at least, thank god. Surely he could manage. </p><p>As he brought out the tools, he realized with a twinge that there would be no way to hold his light at the same time. Biting back his unease at the sudden darkness, he slid the flashlight back into his pocket, one hand over the lock to mark his place. Fine. Maybe the lack of visual input would help him focus on the feeling of the lock as he worked on it. Probably not, but what else was there to do? He could do this. He would.</p><p>Blindly, he slotted the pick into the tiny lock, regretting his need for silence as he fumbled it back and forth. He wanted very much to kick the cabinet in frustration, to call out for Veth to come get it open in three seconds flat like he knew she would, or just hit the stupid thing with a chair until the drawer was bent open. Instead, he was stuck in the dark, slowing his breathing to not alert a myriad of sound sensors. He focused on the feeling of the spring-loaded pins, waiting patiently (or perhaps impatiently) for them to pop into place. </p><p>Finally, the telltale <em>click</em> let him know the job was done, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he eased the drawer open, careful to avoid any creaks or scrapes. He gratefully retrieved his flashlight and thumbed through the carefully preserved manila folders, temporarily pushing down his curiosity about what type of files the Cobalt Soul might be keeping on Secretary Ludinous. </p><p>His heart skipped a beat as he saw it. Right until that very moment, there had been a part of him that doubted this entire line of inquiry was anything but another misdirection, another false hope. But there it was, in careful print inked onto a file tab like it was no more than last year’s taxes. <em>Luxon.</em> </p><p>As he tugged on the tab, he registered somewhere in the back of his mind that there was a solid weight to it, something more than a few sheets of paper. But the thought never broke the surface of his consciousness, signaling to him that perhaps he had found more than he had bargained for, until the exact moment that he blindly reached deep into the cabinet and drew out—</p><p><em>There hung, as if suspended, a small twelve-sided beacon. Intricate silver carvings adorned the sides of the shape, setting it in contrast with its utilitarian surroundings. It cast an unearthly blue glow, like a tiny moon bathing the room in stark lines of light and shadow.</em> </p><p>—The beacon itself. <em>This</em> was the Luxon. Lost to time, half-forgotten, mythologized, hidden— <em>here.</em> Caleb’s heart tried to leap out of his throat. How was this possible?</p><p>He blinked heavily, distressed at the sudden light of it, but that only lasted a heartbeat. Because the next moment, he noticed the man seated at the table just behind him, materializing from the deep shadows as if from thin air. </p><p>In the glimmer of the beacon, Caleb noticed for the first time a cool purple glint in his eyes. </p><p>For an instant, he stood frozen in shock, a noise of surprise threatening to tear its way out from him, and then the other man was on his feet, silently darting for the door.</p><p>A bolt of panic cut through to the forefront of Caleb’s mind. <em>Veth!</em> She would be standing right outside the door, jumpy, counting down the minutes, and just armed enough to be dangerous to herself more than anyone else. The intruder made no attempt to conceal the small firearm at his waist. No. This was an explosion waiting to happen, and he would have to stop it before everything went very south very quickly.  The moment his back was turned, Caleb surreptitiously slipped the beacon into a pocket hidden inside his coat, the faint glow barely visible. Then all at once, before he had the chance to second-guess himself, Caleb was across the room in pursuit.</p><p>He caught his shadow just a step before he reached the door, wrapping a hand around the man’s wrist from behind him. <em>“Wait.”</em></p><p>He froze the instant the plea left his mouth as he immediately realized what he had done. Both of them winced, waiting for the sound alarm to pick up on the disturbance and begin blaring. </p><p>A second passed. </p><p>Then two. Three. Four. Five. </p><p>Nothing. </p><p>An exhale of relief, letting go of the breath they had both been holding. Somehow, miraculously, it seemed the panicked half-whisper had been quiet enough to go unnoticed.</p><p>Caleb slowed his breathing as his mind raced, grasping for a way to stall for time until the guards would rotate again and he and Veth could get out of there. The hush between them thickened, both of them breathlessly still, until Caleb dared to pierce the silence again, voice now barely audible. </p><p>“Wait— Essek. Stay. Just for a moment.”</p><p>Carefully, Essek turned his head to look over his shoulder at him, taking him in, with the ghost of a smile on his face. “Well. Nice to truly meet you at last, Mr. Widowgast.”</p><p>Maybe it was just the necessary quiet, but hearing him speak now, Caleb noticed something about his voice that took him off guard. His voice wasn’t exactly deep, but it was low in a way that seemed to draw him in, with a practiced ease smoothing every tone. The sound of it made him feel dizzy, somehow more aware of the danger of their interaction than ever, as if he had looked down and discovered that the floor had disappeared from underneath them. </p><p>Caleb pulled back slightly, stepping away to regain his balance. “I think… we need to talk.”</p><p>Essek turned around, not letting the distance between them widen by even an inch. “All right. Then talk.” </p><p>Caleb attempted to backpedal, but found his shoulders bumping up against one of the cabinets, blocking his path as Essek stepped forward. “None of that. Why you’ve chosen this time to initiate conversation is <em>truly unfathomable,</em> but if this is how you’ll have it, fine. You’ll have to stay very close if you really want to speak with me. Or don’t you know our friends in security might hear you?” He spoke slowly, making it so that Caleb had to strain forward to hear Essek’s whisper, even with only inches between them.</p><p>Caleb drew himself up to his full height, looking down at his uninvited guest. Somehow, despite his short stature, he still managed to be imposing. “Careful with such threats. You know, I could give you away right here and now.” He paused. “You would face far more consequences than I would. My guess is you would have a very fast trip to somewhere very cold, right?”</p><p>“You’re not exactly here on official business yourself, Mr. Widowgast. How badly do you really need me to confirm what you already suspect? Aren’t you afraid I’ll lift that little treasure... right out of your pocket?”</p><p>Caleb felt himself squirm under Essek’s sharp gaze as Essek leaned forward, slowly reaching his hand toward the muffled light, stretching closer millimeter by millimeter. His eyes seemed to be transfixed by its glow. At the very last second, he relented; his hand moved away by a hair’s breadth, brushing past the fabric of Caleb’s dark jacket and coming to rest on the cabinet, just beside his waist, pinning him there.</p><p>Caleb’s breath caught in his throat. Too late to back out now. He felt their proximity like an electrical charge, prickling under his skin like the moment before lightning strikes. But Caleb forced himself to stay focused, still pressing back into the drawers as he responded, carefully measuring his whispered speech. “I think if you really wanted it, you would have already. That’s what I'm interested in, Essek. Tell me. What is it that you want?”</p><p>The corners of Essek’s mouth curled upwards in response. His head tilted slightly, eyes suddenly flicking up to meet his own. Caleb noticed weakly that there was a faint sharpness to his smile as he spoke. “Well. This has been lovely, but it seems your eighteen minutes are up. You had better get going. Call me when you get home safe, all right?”</p><p>With that, he lifted his hand and backed away, disappearing into the shadows of the room. Caleb stood stock-still, racing to process what had just happened, before a small alarm went off in the back of his mind, alerting him to the time. Essek was right; his time was up. Without a moment to lose, he slid quietly back out the door. </p><p>True to her word, Veth faithfully stood guard outside. Caleb felt a pressure held somewhere deep inside him releasing itself the instant he saw that she was still there, unharmed. Her face flooded with relief as he reached for her hand, and the two of them darted wordlessly around the corner, vanishing as quickly and silently as they had appeared.</p><p>__________________________________</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had a lot of trouble getting this chapter started after the climactic moments of the previous installment, so my amazing friend @sugarlump got the chapter going for me! The first few paragraphs are her writing and honestly I just hope the rest lives up to it. Thanks for being the best ever, sugarlump!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>________________________________</p>
<p>Caleb sits on his futon, and he stares. He knows he’s staring, but he doesn’t process for how long. Even the soft pressure of Frumpkin’s little head against the palm of the hand hanging off of his knee isn’t enough to completely bring him back. He vaguely recognized he was probably disassociating, but was too tired to do anything about it.<br/>Frumpkin meowed in protest, knowingly. Pressed his head into Caleb’s hand again, more fiercely. Purred assertively, lifting his tail as he rubs his side into Caleb’s calf, then jumps onto his lap. It’s not until he’s up in Caleb’s face that Caleb forces his vision to refocus, and against all odds, he smiles, lifts his hand to stroke Frumpkin’s ears back. The purrs intensify.</p>
<p>“Ja, hallo, Frump. You are showing such love to me tonight, hm? Are you lonely?”<br/>Frumpkin chirps once, continues his purr, a light and subtle vibration that grounds Caleb more in that moment than he realizes. He rubbed his thumb side-to-side over frumpkin’s head, making his ears bob up and down, and distracting him from the way that his head still spun even hours after the encounter. </p>
<p>The lights in Caleb’s apartment were dim, perfect for the half-thinking, half-sleeping fog he found himself in tonight. And so many nights. Across the living room, a steady tick-tock reminded him of how long he had sat up, turning the events of that night over and over in his mind. </p>
<p>A faint glow from the pocket of his hanging coat seemed to taunt him. Somehow, Caleb couldn’t help feeling so… disappointed. And that in itself unsettled him. He had gotten what he wanted and more, hadn’t he? After so long of searching for so much as a mention of this device, whatever it was, he had walked right into the luck of the century when the dodecahedron itself practically fell into his lap. So, he wondered, why did such a triumph somehow feel so wrong? </p>
<p>Maybe it was the very fact that he had walked into it. After all that preparing, he had still been unprepared, and that could never sit well with him. He hadn’t known what he was getting himself into, and his career, his ambitions, his very <em>life</em> all depended on being the only one who knew exactly what was going to happen next. Or else how was he supposed to win whatever games of strategy were being played if he couldn’t predict his opponent’s next moves? </p>
<p>And now, he felt like he couldn’t even predict his <em>own.</em>There were too many possibilities, slicing through his carefully constructed ideas and scattering them like shards, and he simply had no idea where any of them would lead. His path seemed to splinter and he had nothing to show him which way to go. </p>
<p>And then there was this strange new acquaintance to consider. Somehow, it seemed like their paths had become inextricably linked before he even realized it. And Caleb felt like he understood him less and less with every passing day. First he had been no more than just another person in the background. Watching silently, like so many did. Then, without warning, a mystery, then with even less warning, an adversary, then an <em>assignment,</em> and now? Now, what was he? </p>
<p>Caleb knew how easy it would have been for him to take the beacon back that night in the library. And why hadn’t he? Or, for that matter, he could have done much worse. And why not? What was he playing at?</p>
<p>His actions seemed to have no rhyme or reason, and that made Caleb more nervous than anything else, because that meant that Essek was playing a game that Caleb could not even conceive of. He was aiming at a mark Caleb could not see, and how could he say where that would lead them next? It was unpredictability. Chaos, and not the good kind. Confusion. Impossible to control.</p>
<p>Frustrated, he pulled the coat down from its hook by the door, reaching into the pocket and lifting out the beacon. He shook his head at himself as he tossed it from his right hand to his left. An object of power like that should probably have a home of honor somewhere, right? A display case in a museum or perhaps a shelf in a hall of learning somewhere? Not being shoved into office drawers and pockets and tossed from one shaking hand to another. But there it was.</p>
<p>He spun it between his hands like a small soccer ball and stared with unfocused eyes at the filigree as it rotated, blurring, then coming to a halt. Spin, stop. Spin, stop. Spin-</p>
<p>Wait, what was that?</p>
<p>As he spun it that time, the corner of his eye had picked up on a small difference on one of the sides. A flash of something white against the blue and grey. He rotated the object slowly, examining each of the twelve sides, until he found what he had been looking for. </p>
<p>A tiny piece of paper, folded tightly and tucked neatly into the filigree. </p>
<p>Caleb felt a cold, inky mass of anticipation drop into his stomach. Nothing, it was probably nothing… …unless?</p>
<p>Steadying his hand, he plucked the paper carefully from its moorings and unfolded it to read a short message. </p>
<p>…Hm. Maybe it really <em>was</em> nothing. Just a short string of numbers with no discernible pattern. A code, maybe? But even then, A cursory look didn’t show any cadence that seemed to indicate meaning. Perhaps a reference number, or something. Disappointing. But, nothing lost. He would have to show it to his friends tomorrow and see if any of them could make anything of it. </p>
<p>Until then, he would spend the night following each of these fragments and possibilities, trying to divine where to go next. <br/>_______________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Caleb’s dreams that night, what few he had, were troubled. </p>
<p>At first, it barely bothered him. There was nothing out of the ordinary. The same questioning faces, the same sickening orange glow, the same twisting hallways with no rhyme or reason or escape. </p>
<p>The hallways were always the part of the dream he hated most. Much of the time, they never led anywhere. It was just an endless ouroboros, leading him through the same spiral traps his mind walked through constantly in his waking hours. </p>
<p>Sometimes, though, he would turn off through a door that looked less familiar, and something new would bubble up to the visible surface of his subconscious. There would be a room holding a new puzzle he could never solve, replaying a new worry on repeat for the rest of the night in a shifting arrhythmic fever he could never keep up with.</p>
<p>Tonight, of course, there was just such a new door. He was unsurprised to find a dark office room cramped with locked drawers on the other side. It was larger than he remembered; it seemed to stretch on for miles, and he knew for certain he would never find any answers here. The corners were darker and deeper, but he knew without looking that something was in them. Something was waiting for him. Someone.</p>
<p>From behind him, a pale blue glow began to flicker at the corners of his vision. When he turned to look, though, there was no light- only a face. Holding him frozen in place, eyes locked. </p>
<p>Caleb could feel that something was <em>wrong.</em> There was something behind him. Everywhere he went, something following, something listening. But try as he might, he couldn’t look away. The eyes were still looking into his. And they kept coming closer. And maybe he didn’t want to look away so badly after all. </p>
<p>_______________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soon, Caleb blinked awake, only to realize that he was staring into another pair of eyes after all. </p>
<p>Frumpkin’s gold-toned irises blinked back at him as the world slotted itself back into focus. Caleb chided himself for falling asleep on the couch again- he had promised Veth he would remember to use the mattress, now that he had one- but at least she had gone home last night and wouldn’t have the chance to reprimand him for it.</p>
<p>Around him, the room was still exactly as dark as it had been when he fell asleep, but he knew without getting up to check that it was exactly 5 am. The same time he had woken up every day for the past 20 years. </p>
<p>It would be hours before the sun was up, but for now, Caleb let himself enjoy the warmth of Frumpkin curled up on his chest, now and then shifting to stretch, or to knead once or twice when his morning pats were in just the right spot. Soon, the pressure lifted as Frumpkin hopped down to the carpet, chirping quietly as he made his way to the kitchen, sensing it was time for his morning meal. When Caleb didn’t immediately get up to follow, the chirps from the kitchen became more insistent.</p>
<p>“Yes, yes, I am coming- shh, I have been laying down for three whole minutes, you would think you were going to miss the bus. Are you in a particular hurry today, sir? Hmm?”</p>
<p>Caleb stretched too as he made his way to the kitchen, detouring to pull on his coat as he did. There must have been a freeze overnight, and he shivered at the thought of unwrapping himself from his blanket. At the cabinets, Frumpkin’s tail swished against his ankles as he filled the cat’s bowl and set it down, pausing to scritch between his ears as he eagerly set to his breakfast. </p>
<p>With Frumpkin occupied, Caleb was free to start his own morning routine. As difficult as it could be to get out of bed sometimes, these peaceful early hours were often his favorite part of the day. It was measured. It was set. it made sense. Things might fall apart as the hours rolled on- they almost certainly would- but for now, the world was familiar. It wasn’t always easy, exactly, but he knew the shape of it well, and he could trust his feet to carry him through the apartment as he began his preparations for the day, even when his heart wasn’t in it or his brain wasn’t cooperating with him. </p>
<p>He started by putting on a pot of coffee to brew while he moved down his list. Measure 1/8 cup of coffee grounds, three cups of water. Check the stove- no leaks, looks fine- maybe open the window just to be safe- careful of sparks. Light the stove and put the percolator on to boil. Then back to the bedroom, no need to make the bed, just to stop by the bathroom for the toothbrush and to unfold clothes for the day. </p>
<p>Cold days were a little bit of a guilty pleasure. Everyone would be unhappy about the ice, but Caleb was just glad to have an excuse to bundle up in two different sweaters and a gaggle of scarves. Perfect. </p>
<p>When he got back to the kitchen, Frumpkin was looking a little nervously up at the percolator, which was boiling furiously. Caleb turned down the gas just a bit as Frumpkin leapt up onto the kitchen counter. Before Caleb knew it he had another scarf, purring away, and he scratched Frumpkin’s nose appreciatively. </p>
<p>Now that his routine was almost done with, his hands were starting to feel a little twitchy. Most weekends, he would occupy them with making some toast, but he had promised to take a late breakfast with his friends and thought he should probably do all he could to encourage his small appetite to make an appearance when he did. After toast, he would take out his notes from the previous night and read over them, but, well, after everything that had happened yesterday, notes had been just about the <em>last</em> thing on his mind.</p>
<p>Remembering that, the slight uneasy feeling he had woken up with suddenly came into focus. </p>
<p>Well, at least he had plenty to think about. </p>
<p>He allowed himself a small huff about it as he poured himself a cup of coffee and pulled back his chair to sit at the kitchen table, depositing Frumpkin back onto the linoleum and settling in for a good long think. </p>
<p>Breakfast couldn’t come soon enough. </p>
<p>__________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fortunately, he didn’t have too many hours to wait. Maybe he would get to the house a little early, but Caduceus always said he was happy to have help with the cooking. So, if he turned up at more like nine than ten, he could always slip in quietly and start some more coffee.</p>
<p>By the time Caleb walked down the street, the sun was shining warmly, trying to coax the air up past freezing. His footsteps alternated between crunching over salt where someone had already seen to the sidewalks, and crunching over ice where they had not.</p>
<p>The house was only a block away, and Caleb barely had time to get properly cold before he rounded the corner to see the house, expecting the windows to still be dark and the door locked. They were— but he was surprised to hear some quiet chatter as the house came into view. </p>
<p>On the porch, Jester and Molly had set out a card table, and Jester was practicing her readings, much to Molly’s delight. Even from a house or two away, he could see a twinkle in his eyes as he leaned over her spread, nodding along as she spoke. “Hmm, you think this means there’s a visitor on the way, you say? Could be, could be…” and Caleb noticed that his ear twitched backwards towards him; his presence must have been noticed. </p>
<p>Molly rubbed his chin with mock sagacity. “Why Jester. You’ve seen the future proper! Look, here’s our visitor now.”</p>
<p>Caleb stepped out from around the corner, putting his hands in the air. “You caught me.  What are you two doing out this early?”</p>
<p>“Just practicing a little before we miss the morning light. Would you like us to draw a card for you, now that you’ve found us out?”</p>
<p>He motioned to the table where a few colorful cards were arranged, but Jester had her brows knit together in thought. “I don’t know Molly… maybe this last card was for Caleb already?”</p>
<p>They both stood back, inviting her to say more. </p>
<p>“I mean, I know I said it meant a visitor and everything. But we already knew Caleb was coming over this morning, so I didn’t reeeeeally need the Moonweaver to tell me that, right? And! I probably pulled this card <em>right</em> when Caleb got here, too. Which means it could have been for him, even thought I didn’t know it, doesn’t it!” </p>
<p>Caleb tilted his head to the side in a half-nod. “Your intuition has never failed me yet, Jester.” </p>
<p>With that, the thoughtful look vanished from her face, and she broke into the type of smile Caleb had seen enough times to know it meant trouble.</p>
<p>“Caleeeeeeb… if this card is for youuuu, then…” She gave an exaggerated gasp, eyes twinkling excitedly. “Then maybe <em>you’re</em> the one who is going to have an important visitor in your life!”</p>
<p>"Ehm… In that case, maybe you should go ahead and draw a new card for me. Veth is the only one with a key to my apartment, and she is expected.”</p>
<p>Jester only doubled down on her interpretation after that.</p>
<p>“Well, it doesn't necessarily mean that you're going to have a visitor, exactly, you know? It could just mean that there is going to be someone visiting your life— you know— metaphorically?" her eyes grew wide as she realized this new interpretation. "Caleb! Ohmygosh, this could mean that you're going to meet someone!” </p>
<p>Caleb fidgeted nervously at the paper in his pocket. "Sure, I meet new people all the time. But, yes, that could be good.” </p>
<p>“No, silly— I mean like <em>meet someone,</em> meet someone! Right, Molly? Couldn't it mean that?”</p>
<p>“You're the reader; if you say it, it's gospel. Now, Caleb, are you all right over there? What are you fidgeting with?" </p>
<p>Before Caleb could react, Molly was reaching over with his tail and swatting the slip of paper out of Caleb's hand and towards Jester, who caught it in the same fashion.</p>
<p>“Is it okay if we look at this?" </p>
<p>Caleb shrugged. "I suppose. I meant to show it around this morning anyway, to see if anyone can make more sense of it than I can.”</p>
<p>Molly unfolded the strip of paper to take a look, and this time, it was his turn to light up with a grin. </p>
<p>“Aw! Caleb! What could you possibly need to make sense of— except what an amazing and accurate prophetess our Jester is turning out to be? Whose phone number is this? Oh, and congratulations, by the way.” </p>
<p>Jester was bouncing up and down, looking over Molly's shoulder eagerly. "Oh my gosh! You have to tell us who it is and how you got it and you have to tell us everything!”</p>
<p>“Ah…well... I would do that, I suppose, except for the fact that it is not a phone number, just a numeric sequence. And I have been puzzling about it all morning." </p>
<p>Molly held it out, twisting it side to side like he was inspecting a museum display. "Nope - no numeric sequence to see here, just one whole telephone number. Just ten unrelated numerals that don't mean anything, except the fact that you’re going to dial them all into a telephone this evening and call someone up.”</p>
<p>Caleb stared at the number blankly, realization dawning on him slowly. “You are… wait, you are being serious? Let me see that.” </p>
<p>Sure enough, the mysterious string of numbers he had been puzzling about all night was a ten digit sequence perfect for plugging into the nearest telephone. </p>
<p>Before he had time to properly make sense of that revelation, he found himself and the other two being bundled inside the house to the declaration of “Breakfast is ready.” He was promptly pushed into a seat at the corner of a folding table, a plate of biscuits and bacon (Beau’s work) shoved into his hands, all while his mind was busy sorting through <em>Did Essek mean to give me this?</em> and <em>Does he want me to contact him?</em> and <em>Why can’t</em> he <em>contact</em> me, <em>I gave him my own contact information</em> weeks <em>ago, even if it was a joke,</em> and <em>If Essek could give this to me without my even noticing, what else can he do right under our noses?</em> And, most importantly, <em>Why didn’t he take the beacon?</em></p>
<p>By the time everyone had been seated, it seemed that Molly and Jester had successfully teamed up to make sure everyone at the table knew about Caleb's message, and they of course all made the same assumption about its purpose.</p>
<p>Caleb groaned. "Would you believe me if I told you it’s work related?" </p>
<p>Veth beamed at him from across the table. "Not a chance." </p>
<p>Yasha, on the other hand, was giving a hard time to Molly instead. "I never thought <em>you</em> would be the last one of us to be single." </p>
<p>“I mean, other than Caduceus, of course,“ Jester inserted. “We love you, Caduceus.”</p>
<p>He waved a hand in a way that seemed to say “none taken,” and looked back to where Fjord was nudging Molly. “Yeah, how <em>did</em> that happen? It certainly wasn’t for lack of trying.”</p>
<p>"Oh! Sure! And how exactly was I supposed to get myself a proper date when my every waking moment is occupied with trying to shepherd all you wayward children through life and love? Maybe now that Caleb is about to be paired off I can settle down and finally start looking out for myself.” </p>
<p>Caleb hid his face in his hands, finally giving up defending himself for a lost cause. “For the last time, it’s <em>work related.”</em></p>
<p>_____________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Work related or not, by the end of the day, the nein had extracted a promise from Caleb. Before the night was over, he would know exactly what was waiting for him on the other end of the line. In the hall of his apartment, staring at the phone in his hand, the dial tone seemed to ask him the same question. <em>Well? Are you ready to find out? </em></p>
<p>_____________________</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>__________________________</p><p> </p><p>After breakfast with friends, Caleb went home to his evening feeling like he was having a pretty decent day overall. </p><p>Essek, on the other hand, was feeling very, very different. If there was a way his day could have gone worse, he really didn’t want to imagine it.</p><p>Currently, Essek was watching the last of the afternoon sun begin to make its way across his living room window. Or at least, he was following the patch of sunlight closely with his eyes, because that point of interest was vastly preferable to making eye contact with the serious-looking drow currently seated across the room from him, staring him down like looks could kill. His second uninvited guest that week, as chance would have it.</p><p>Internally, Essek gave a sigh of frustration. He didn’t know why he bothered anymore. Might as well install a rotating door in place of a locking one, if his tiny one-bedroom apartment was going to become an unasked gathering place for every citizen of his entire home country. </p><p>At least Verin’s visit had been <em>pleasant.</em> And significantly lower in the “trying to burn down my house by staring at me angrily” category. </p><p>Essek shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wondering who exactly home base had gotten to come all the way out here just to give him the shake down. And how exactly he could get them to leave in peace. He had long since planned for just about every way this conversation could go, but that didn’t mean he was looking forward to it.</p><p>“Thelyss, it seems as if you don’t understand the particular… <em>gravity</em> of your situation. I hesitate to use the phrase ‘thin ice,’ but if you can think of a better summation, please feel free to inform me of such.”</p><p>“I’ve already told you everything I know. Do you not have anyone else’s time to waste? Because I certainly have no more to spare.” </p><p>“That’s odd, see, because you certainly seem to have spent plenty here with precious little to show for it. When do you plan on accounting for this?”</p><p>“What exactly did my last report leave to doubt?”</p><p>“It would be easier to answer what it <em>didn’t.</em> ‘Research?’ ‘Connections?’ You offer very few concrete results here. You know I have nothing against your work personally,” Essek rolled his eyes. <em>Doubtful.</em> “It’s just that there have been some— in very high positions, mind you— who really expected to see more from these ventures. You promised much. You did not previously seem like the type to break your promises.” </p><p>“I see. Perhaps there is not enough patience for real progress, and I should pack up and leave the <em>beacon itself</em> to whoever is lucky enough to stumble across it. That will be no loss to us, and I am sure there is no possibility they will be found by someone who is able to learn about them. I am sure we did not need them back. I understand.” He cut himself off before he allowed the sarcasm to go too far. Best not to push too much too soon.</p><p>“I must say, that is an… interesting assertion, coming from someone who purports to have spent his life researching them, and who it seems, can’t manage to locate a <em>single one</em> when he’s finally sent to recover them. Even after claiming for <em>years</em> he could do that very thing. But.” They folded their hands, clearly searching for a way to redirect the conversation. “I’m glad you brought this up, because luckily for us, that’s exactly what we need to know more about. Just go ahead and tell me what you’ve learned about where it is, show me you’re making progress— any progress at all!— and then I can leave you alone and we can both feel much safer.” </p><p>The interrogator looked back at him with what had been a level expression, but was growing more exasperated by the second. Essek couldn’t blame him. He felt probably much more exasperated than his unwelcome guest, but at least flattered himself that he had learned to hide it better. Even in spite of their flimsy attempt at intimidation.</p><p>That said, Essek could work with exasperated. Rise above. If he could be the level-headed one while this <em>up-and-comer</em> was left grasping at straws, then he knew he was well in control of the situation. And since they seemed to have no real accusations, or even suspicions, it would be easy enough to use their frustrations to his own benefit. </p><p>He tilted his head, allowing himself a small (maybe condescending, if he was honest) smile. “I am glad we are agreed that more progress is needed.”</p><p>“Yes. Well.” </p><p>Good. He was already giving over the conversation. This would be even easier than he thought. </p><p>“As such, you will not be surprised to hear that, quite soon, I may not contact our mutual friends again for an extended period of time. Nothing is being accomplished with me stuck dancing around the sidelines like this. I was not sent here to play go-between, and neither do I intend to do so. However. Once you hear from me again, I <em>will</em> be in possession of a beacon.”</p><p>The stranger was silent. For a moment, Essek was worried his bet was about to be called. They narrowed their eyes. </p><p>“See that you are. For your sake.”</p><p>Threats with no teeth, then. Essek felt a knot of tension unwind from his chest. So much for being on thin ice. This individual clearly had no inkling of his true intentions. </p><p>“In that case. Do you feel quite satisfied? Or is there some other way I can be of service?”</p><p>There was a momentary pause as they seemed to weigh their situation. Essek could plainly read on their face that they were trying to determine who, if anyone, had gained the upper hand in the conversation. And if they had a moment more to think, they might have discerned accurately that Essek was deflecting, not genuflecting—</p><p>—but there was no time to reflect, because at that moment, the stillness in the apartment was broken abruptly. By what else but a ringing telephone.</p><p>The piercing metallic sound of it was jarring as it cut through the tension in the room. Immediately, the interrogator snapped their head to look at the device, then back towards Essek, suspicion flooding their eyes. “And who, pray tell, might be calling you?”</p><p>This was the first thing that gave Essek a jolt of proper horror. <em>Widogast. Could your timing be any worse?</em> “It’s no one.”</p><p>“Good! Because I don’t need to tell you that ‘no one’ is supposed to have this line. Your security instructions were explicit.”</p><p>Another ring, and he had time to regain a modicum of control, shaking out all the dry sarcasm he had to spare into his next reply. “I’m sure you’ve never heard of such a novel thing, but any phone line in this entire country is constantly overrun with telemarketers. Numbers generated randomly. Would you like to answer and do me the favor of negotiating the purchase of a new radio?” </p><p>He felt a rush of itchy panic after making that last gamble. Most likely they would not take his challenge, but if they did, he could only hope that Caleb had the presence of mind not to say anything. </p><p>Above the chair where he sat, he could see that his guest had risen and was staring down the phone as if they could stop it from ringing by sheer force of will. Exactly the same appraising glance Essek had been looking down all evening. A threat too vague to fear. </p><p>It seemed the telephone sensed the same, because it kept on ringing, making Essek want to wince with every shrill tone, until he was startled to see the visitor straighten up and begin to stride across the room.</p><p>Well. Here’s hoping Essek had managed to give his number to the only American on the entire continent who could resist answering the telephone with a loud and overly-cheerful hello, and probably an introduction too.</p><p>Essek fought the urge to cover his face with his hands as the visitor reached for the telephone. Then, their hand twitched just for a moment, suspended over the phone— </p><p>And it stopped ringing.</p><p>Angrily, they picked up the receiver and held it to their ear, but Essek could already hear the blessed buzzing of a dial tone from his seat across the room. Too late.</p><p>“Well. It seems like we will just have to haggle over radio prices later. You were saying?”</p><p>_____________________________</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey y'all! I don't know if anybody is reading this on a weekly basis, but if you're checking, I'm taking a brief hiatus this week. Next chapter will be up by or before the 23rd so don't touch that dial ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>_________________</p><p>Somewhere across the city, Veth was gently shaking Caleb by the shoulders, emitting a screech that was slowly rising in volume.</p><p>“caaaaaaaaAAAAAALEB! Why did you hang up! Calebcalebcalebcaleb whyyy!” </p><p>Caleb stared at the phone in his hand, listening to the dial tone distantly, sounding somewhere beneath Veth’s admonishments. To tell the truth, he wasn’t sure why. </p><p>“I got a bad feeling about it. Something was going to... go wrong, I think.”</p><p>Veth managed to give him a look that expressed both understanding and humor as she rolled her eyes. “You have anxiety, Caleb. You get a feeling that <em> everything </em> is going to go wrong. But maybe it wouldn’t! If you would let the call go through!”</p><p>“Ah, but what if I’m lucky that I hung up just in time, and if I had stayed on the line, maybe someone would have listened in, and our new acquaintance would be in even more danger before we even get to know him, hm?”</p><p>“That wouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t give you his number unless he knew it was safe.”</p><p>“And why not? What makes you suddenly think he has our best interests at heart? Wasn’t it last week he was practically running you off the road? He’s...” Caleb sighed, suddenly deflating. “He’s not our friend, Veth.”</p><p><em> Ah,</em> Veth thought. <em>So that’s why you didn’t finish the call. It has nothing to do with risk. Oh, my sweet friend.</em> Veth wasn’t sure how to respond to that, to tell the truth. She wanted to tell Caleb that it was okay. That he could be confident, and unafraid, and that he could take a chance on people and they wouldn’t always disappoint him. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to doubt himself before he let himself have a chance at something good.</p><p>But she also saw the conversation played out in terrible hindsight. Saw herself encouraging him to act too soon, saw him getting hurt — maybe even literally— all based on her advice, on his faith in her, too hard won to waste on such an uncertainty. And besides. Her sweet, clueless boy was still convinced his thoughts were only work-related, anyway.</p><p>Maybe for tonight, that particular brand of chaos would have to wait.</p><p>She was careful to sound exactly the right amount of casual when she responded, with a tone of voice calculated perfectly to calm his fears. She was experienced at that. They knew each other well enough for that by now.</p><p>“What do you mean, he’s not our friend? He tried to do us bodily harm but didn’t, he lurked around our lives for a few weeks, and he had at least one high-stakes conversation in which you both tried (unsuccessfully) to show off for one another. That’s classic mighty Nein friendship! What more could you possibly want!” </p><p>Caleb cracked a dry smile. “We do have some unusual habits, don’t we.”</p><p>“All I’m saying is, he would fit right in. He might still be evil, though. He could totally still be evil.”</p><p>“Probably so. We haven’t even unlocked his tragic backstory yet. That is required if we want to talk about friendship, is it not?”</p><p>Maybe his voice still sounded as formal as ever, but Veth could hear a little bit of the worry fading from his voice, and his quiet humor coming back to fill its place. It was a good sound.</p><p>“What do you think it is? Let’s place bets. What is it— do you think he has dead family syndrome? Revenge maybe? Oh, or a cult, it’s been a while since we had a cult!”</p><p>“Not nearly long enough. But he may have any combination of those. Or likely something more mundane and much more dangerous.”</p><p>“Yeah? Like what?”</p><p>“Like doing something he believes in. There’s <em> nothing </em> more dangerous than that.”</p><p>Veth fell silent, unable to think of a response. His voice held the same humor it had before, but she knew him well enough by now to hear what was beneath a joke like that. She could hear the exact second Caleb stopped joking about Essek and started taking jabs at his own past.</p><p>“Hey now.” She made a kicking motion towards him with no intent to strike. “Cut him some slack. Maybe he’s had a dazzling multiple-year growth arc that shows no signs of stopping.”</p><p>Caleb swallowed hard. “Maybe. Maybe not yet.”</p><p>Veth was saved from trying to fill up the empty spaces in Caleb’s quiet apartment by a very loud noise that interrupted them quite suddenly.</p><p>The phone. Naturally.</p><p>Caleb jumped up about a foot in the air (Veth was pretty sure she had too) and looked up at her with a panicked expression. “Do you think it’s,”</p><p>“Answer it! Answerrrrrrr it now! Before it’s too late! Come on, here!”</p><p>Caleb seemed frozen in place, his hands glued to his sides by some invisible force that Veth decided she was just going to have to overcome by herself. Quickly, decisively, she reached over, plucked Caleb’s receiver from the stand, and held it out to him.</p><p>He would be mad at her later. Maybe. But she could take it. Definitely. Definitely the look on his face right now was worth it, all mixed up between nervous and confused and hopeful. The kind of look you get when something good is about to happen and you just haven’t figured it out yet. Yeah. It was worth it to have a front row seat while he figured that out.</p><p>Caleb was silent for perhaps a beat longer than was polite before answering, and no one who didn’t know him as well as she did (so, no one at all) would have noticed the tremor in his voice when he spoke. Brisk and stiffened, like some sort of telephone professional. Veth could already tell they were going to have to work on his phone conversation skills.</p><p>“Widowgast residence. How can I help you?”</p><p>“Good question, Caleb, that’s exactly what I was hoping to find out.”</p><p>His voice caught in his throat when he heard the voice on the other line. So it was Essek, after all. “I see. For a moment I was afraid I was unable to grasp your goals due to my own inability; it’s reassuring to know that it’s only because you don’t know either.”</p><p>“Well. You certainly give yourself plenty of credit. Hang on to that, it might serve you later. For now, I know my own interests, thank you. What I would really like to know is why <em> you </em> seem to be so interested in them.”</p><p>“Call it professional concern. Believe me, it’s nothing personal.”</p><p>There was a single note of laughter from the other end of the line. “After initiating contact with me before you knew the first thing about me, Caleb? After twice showing up at a site housing artifacts of my homeland, not to mention artifacts of my personal interest? And not to mention after bringing your friends to follow me, <em> don’t think I didn’t notice that little detail. </em> It seems you’ve decided our lives should be entwined. So, yes, Caleb, I am interested in you. I want to know how you can help me.”</p><p>At that, Caleb had to turn the other direction from Veth, who was standing on her tiptoes and silently mouthing <em> he’s interested in you! He said he’s interested in you! </em></p><p>“Ah. All right.” Caleb took a short breath, reeling a little from the unexpected tone of the conversation. He felt unable to keep up with all the questions he sensed rising up. It was all questions and never answers with this Thelyss. Well. Time to change that. “All right, then, you’re right. I am interested. Tell me, Essek, what is it that you want?”</p><p>This time, the buzzing silence came from Essek’s end of the line before he spoke again. “I think it’s time we spoke in person. You’ll forgive me for not trusting that your line is secured.”</p><p>“It’s the best our intelligence agencies have to offer.”</p><p>“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. So, you agree to meet?”</p><p>“Where? Our, ahm, our usual spot is... already well known, I think.”</p><p>“Pity, the coffee was good. But don’t worry. I’ll find you.” </p><p>As much as Caleb wanted to protest that, it was probably the most secure way to go about this meeting. Essek was right. It was almost certain their call would be overheard. No way to arrange a meeting without risk. “Fine. I’ll... I suppose I will be seeing you soon, then.”</p><p>A tone Caleb couldn’t quite read filled the voice on the other end of the telephone. “I look forward to that, Mr. Widowgast. And good evening.”</p><p>“Wait, one more thing before you go. Please.” Caleb paused, waiting for the telltale sign of the receiver clicking back into place and the call ending, but it never came. Essek must have still been listening. He took a breath and continued. “Back when I first spoke to you. I gave you a way to contact me then. Why didn’t you ever use it? Why wait for me to come to you instead?”</p><p>The laughter Essek gave in response to that might have sounded beautiful if it hadn’t sounded so dangerous. “Do you really believe that was the first I knew of you? The first time I had a way to contact you? That you’ve seen me every time that I’ve seen you?” There was that peal of laughter again, and then, his voice was quiet. “Caleb. You’re so cute when you think you’re the one in control.”</p><p>......</p><p>
  <em> Click. </em>
</p><p>_____________________</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>... me writing this fic is really just "wow i wish I had what the penumbra podcast has" lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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